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Who knew so much anguish could be wrapped up in a single word. Switch must have heard it too because his broad shoulders suddenly filled the doorway behind her. His cinnamon eyes met mine, a question in them.
I shook my head and focused back on Delilah’s stricken face as I asked, “What is it?”
“My fuckup.”
My eyes shot to Switch, understanding lighting his face. He set his hands on her trembling shoulders, physically moving her to the side so he could fit through the door. His boots seemed to echo around the kitchen as he walked toward me, his eyes looking past me.
When I turned around, I came face to face with the man who’d killed Jules.
Switch pointed at my screen as he looked back at Delilah. “You’re sure this is him?”
“I’d know his face anywhere.”
Her voice sounded hollow, wooden, broken, and I hadn’t even told her that this was the man who’d killed her brother. Shit. Something was off. This was about more than just her recognizing a face from her time in captivity.
My eyes found Delilah again, and she was still right where Switch left her. “Do you know Mateo?”
At least that was what he’d called himself. Who knew if the name he gave me was real, though I suspected that it was.
Switch tensed beside me, his hand wrapping around my biceps, his rough touch lightening me up from the inside out. “Who is he, Stel?”
I blinked up at him, momentarily stunned. His face was all hard angles and lines, his jaw clenched. He hadn’t trimmed his beard even though the hair running down the center of his head was slicked back like usual.
Right now, he looked every bit the outlaw biker that he was, beautiful, savage, and dangerous. Not an ounce of kindness anywhere in him. I should have been terrified, or at the very least intimidated, but this rare glimpse into the more ruthless side of his nature only made me crave more. More of his rough touch, more of the raw power he kept tightly leashed, just more.
“Who is he,” he demanded again, lightly shaking me by the arm.
“A member ofLos Sepultureros,” Hunter said, making me jump in my seat. He’d always had the ability to move like death itself. Silent, swift, and often taking you by surprise. “The more important question is, what do they have to do with this?”
That was why Mateo had seemed familiar. Los Sepultureros MC, otherwise known as The Gravediggers, were our most hated rivals. They got others to push their product for them, so none of their members ever went to jail, often recruiting kids to distribute to other kids on school property. The Gravediggers didn’t care if a mother of three went to jail for twenty-five years or if a kid was on the evening newsbecause he OD’d on a Fentanyl-laced product so long as they made their money.
Still, when did those assholes make the leap from selling drugs to selling women? It didn’t make any sense. They were more street gang than highly organized criminals. Not even Mateo, who was obviously higher up the food chain in Los Sepultureros struck me as having what it took to pull off something of this caliber.
“Well,” Hunter prompted from my other side, his light eyes dissecting me.
“I didn’t know Mateo was a Gravedigger until now. He told me he wanted to prove that The Devil’s Deviants weren’t nearly as untouchable as we thought we were, then he shot Jules and left him in the cell with me.”
From her spot by the door, I heard Delilah make a keening sound. She already knew the details of Jules’s death, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear a second time. Her loss was still too fresh.
Brandy got up and moved to comfort her, Hunter’s pale eyes leaving mine to follow her progress as he dug his cell phone out of his jeans.
“Ryder, we need to call everyone into church. Stella and the girl have ID’d someone from Los Sepultureros.”
He listened for a second before pressing a button on his phone without saying goodbye. “Whether you’re ready to face the club or not, Stella, Ryder’s expecting us at church in twenty minutes.”
CHAPTER 22
SWITCH
Stel clung to my back, her hands wrapped tightly around my waist. I hadn’t had the privilege of having her plastered against me while the wind teased our clothes, and a hunk of metal carried us across the blacktop because she’d always ridden her own bike. She’d probably kick my ass for even thinking it, but I liked this way better.
It had nothing to do with any male chauvinistic tendencies, I just enjoyed having her hands on me. The way her hands looked across my stomach every time I chanced alook down made the sluggish organ in my chest beat to life. Her heat filled me to near bursting, and after having been lifeless and cold for so long it felt invigorating. Something like stepping out of a cave and feeling the scorching sun beating down on you.
She still hadn’t said much, but then she hadn’t protested either when I’d asked her to ride with me. Often, I’d wondered if her fiery nature just wouldn’t allow her to concede anything, even something small, and that was why she always fought so hard. If I were being honest, I enjoyed the fight a little too much.
Stel didn’t make anything easy, which made her a challenge, and there was nothing I loved more than a challenge. Winning a woman like Stel, one who made you work for it, was worth more to me than bedding a thousand women.
Not that I would know, that was more Tweak’s field of expertise. He was the guy women tripped all over themselves to talk to, and I was infinitely glad Stel had never been one of them. I liked him too much to have to worry about killing him. Not to mention things would get real awkward between Ryder and me, being that they were cousins.
