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“Why?”
“Which part?”
Walla Walla gives me a sly grin when I scowl at him. Seeing how I won’t respond, he continues, “I can’t control the situation here. In my territory, you’d be safer.”
“You can’t be sure. Didn’t your people get hurt.”
“Yes, because it was a surprise attack. We know now.”
I glance at the men now covered with tarps. The police stand around, all waiting for the same thing as the Backcountry Kings.
“What if those were the last of them?”
“That would be great, but your dad still wants to see you.”
Freezing up, I lower my gaze and mutter, “I never want to see him.”
“I think you do.”
“No.”
“I feel it in my bones how you want to make peace with him. I also get the sense you want to fuck with your brothers and make sure you get your inheritance. No reason for it all to go to Peter.”
Frowning at how Walla Walla doesn’t even pretend as if he isn’t maneuvering me to his benefit, I reply, “I have nothing to do with the Halvorson family drama. I haven’t spoken to my father or brothers in more than a decade.”
“Sure, I get that. I never talk to my parents, either. So, I’m not selling the happy-family bullshit. But if my dad were dying and wanted to see me, I would absolutely go to his deathbed. Without a doubt, I’d stare into his eyes and, you know, smirk or something. Just so he’d die knowing I suffer no regrets.”
Walla Walla is completely serious, which makes me smile. I can imagine him swaggering inside his parents’ house to stare down his past.
However, I lost my swagger years ago. Simply the thought of seeing my father again gets my heart racing. I also have no interest in dealing with Peter and Erik. That life hasn’t belonged to me in far too long. Except Walla Walla’s offer to bring me back with him is unbearably tempting.
“I always hoped you’d come back to my neck of the woods,” he explains as the sound of approaching motorcycles nearly drowns out his voice. “I even paid a lady in Canary Basin to tell me if you visited your father. Because even after all these years, I remained curious about the redhead I caught peeking at me.”
Inside, I am on fire! My heart beats wildly. I nearly giggle with glee. On the outside, I try to react to his words with nonchalance. Based on his smirk, I haven’t successfully hidden anything.
“If you came back to McMurdo Valley, we could talk without all this chaos.”
“There is no chaos at my house.”
Walla Walla frowns, likely used to winning every argument based on his charm and natural good looks. As much as I’d love to swoon and give him whatever he wants, I refuse to return to a place where my life was broken forever.
“You need to be careful with these two men,” I tell Walla Walla rather than continue our conversation.
His gaze flashes to the two newly arrived bikers stopping to speak with Bear and Sync. Up until now, Coco and Goose have been tormenting the bikers. Once his leaders arrive, Golden shoos away the women to allow Zoot and Noble to get caught up on today’s events.
Coco is acting so wild, but I think she’s reacting to Goose’s hostility. Maybe they really are flirting. It wouldn’t be the first time Coco’s been interested in a woman. She dated a younger dancer for nearly a year. My friend was so happy until the dancer ran off with a rich man. Afterward, Coco pretended as if the entire relationship was a figment of my imagination.
As I consider my friend’s broken heart, I also imagine my own eventual suffering if I follow this Walla Walla fantasy to its natural conclusion.
Nearby, the Backcountry Kings’ president and vice president finish up with Bear. I wish the two O’Malley brothers could just do whatever they’re going to do without talking to me first. I want to hide with my thoughts. Instead, they walk toward me.
“Hello, Austen,” Noble says, keeping his dark-eyed gaze on me rather than acknowledging Walla Walla. The club’s VP usually does all the talking, so I’m unsurprised to see him take the lead. “Hell of a day.”
“Thank you for helping.”
“We got the basics from Bear,” he says and finally glances at Walla Walla. “What’s unclear is how many more threats there might be in Banta City. What are your thoughts?”
“I don’t know,” Walla Walla says and uses the blanket around his shoulders to dry his long, blond hair. “Peter Halvorson figured it was around seven, but I wouldn’t trust his numbers.”
