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Now I stared at it, smiling with a new lust for adventure.
Killian: Come back, Daisy…and this time, fucking stay.
TWENTY-THREE
KILLIAN
My phone was dead, and I was getting really sick and tired of sleeping in this shitty hotel. We’d been gone for three days, and with each day, I was starting to feel like my skin was being pulled and stretched. Like I was about to come out of it. While I knew this was important, my mind screamed at me to go back to Laura.
Silas was still with me and Wes, watching as Jameson’s vice president had secret meetings without him. I could care less what the fuck his club was doing, but it was too much of a coincidence that Luke Holloway, the vice president of the Chaos Kings, was meeting with my father in Cherrywood Penitentiary.
It started a week ago, according to Silas. Twice in one week and then three times this week. One of which I witnessed myself. I had no idea what they were talking about while they were meeting, but it was too abnormally timed with the fact that Jameson had reached out to the Stone Riders for help with Luke’s pregnant old lady. It was also strangely timed with what my dad had learned of Laura’s existence in my club.
“We need to get back,” Wes said, staring at his watch.
I knew he didn’t like being away from Callie this long, but I also knew that we’d told Simon before we left, and he was keeping her company while we were gone. So, Wes felt a modicum of security in that. I, on the other hand, was restless about leaving Laura after just starting things with her.
“Yeah, I think so too.”
Silas gave no reaction, just stared at us with those pale blue eyes. “Our deal stands?”
We mounted our bikes, and I gave him a nod. “She’ll be safe with us. Just don’t ever do that shit again.”
Silas gave me a quick nod, then one to Wes, before putting on a pair of sunglasses and revving his bike to life. Once he was situated, he pulled off and was gone in a plume of dust before we even had a chance to set out.
Two and half hours later, we were entering the city limits of Rose Ridge. Wes gave me a salute as he veered off a side road, which would lead up the butte to his house that overlooked the city. I continued through the main channel of town, slowing down to about twenty miles per hour.
My eyes flicked over The Drip, seeing a few people outside of it holding signs. As I went by, I saw a few pointing at me, others raising their fists, menace straining their faces as they screamed words I couldn’t hear.
His sign read, Bad Bikers—get them out of our town. Another sign said, Stone the Riders. My anger surged as understanding occurred. This was a protest, and the city had gathered to rally against our club. It had a sour feeling stirring in my stomach.
Not having a patch had protected Laura that day.
In response, I revved my bike and then sped past them, making my engine echo through the street, loudly.
Pushing on toward the club, I felt relief tug at me as I edged closer to our road.
I slowed as I came upon a new security system at the edge of the drive, built to keep people out. There was now a keypad along with a metal gate, secured by iron beams sunk into concrete along each side of the entry. The metal entrance stretched along the property, and barbed wire attached to the top, which would prevent anyone from climbing in.
This was good. Especially after the Death Raiders rolled in like they owned the place. Still, I didn’t currently have the code, and Giles likely texted me, but I didn’t have any way of checking it because my phone had died. There was a button to push, so I went that route, waiting for someone to come on and answer.
Letting my bike idle, I waited by the speaker until I heard someone speak up.
“Hello?”
“Get this gate open. Now.”
The line went dead, and then I heard someone yelling from closer down the drive.
Then I heard a click, and the metal gate was swinging open.
Riding down the dirt path and kicking up dust, I noticed the club was packed with bikes in front, which meant most of the members had been called in. I was proud of Giles for making the call, especially if the fucking town was picketing against us.
My legs were sore as I parked my bike in front of the apartment. All I wanted to do was take a shower and see Daisy. Preferably take a shower with her, then fuck her, hard and slow. I’d also like to kiss her. Then maybe just stare at her for a while.
I needed to just be around her, like a fucking solar panel. I wanted to absorb her, to take her in and, as always, greedily inhale every ounce of her sunshine.
“Prez. Finally.” Giles jogged down the stairs, exiting from the club. “I fucked up. I’m so sorry…I had it made and wanted to wait for you, but she found it, and I?—"
