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I do.
His confidence made me feel safe. I relaxed enough that my body lost a little of the tension.
“We need to check-in. Ratchet is pissed.”
That was the last we heard before boots scuffed the pavement, and the bikers left the alley. A minute later, they rode off.
Slash slowly sat up and pulled me with him, hugging me against his chest as I wrapped my arms around him, still needing the connection and his warmth.
When we parted, he stared with such intensity it still mingled with a hint of lust. There was something else there, hiding in the obsidian depths. I didn’t get a chance to ask.
“We need to find a motel,” he announced, rising off the saddle of his bike to clear a pathway from behind the dumpster.
Something scurried next to the bike, and I slapped a hand over my mouth, nearly screaming when I caught dark fur zipping along the ground. That rat was as enormous as a freaking house cat.
If I saw another one, I would probably run.
Slash hurried back to me, started the engine, and rolled forward. I huddled against his back, grateful to leave that smelly, rat-infested hole we had to crawl into for the last hour.
Once we got to a hotel, I needed a shower.
Chapter 8 Havoc
We lost the BSMC members following us over thirty minutes ago and rode to an old motel on the outskirts of Vegas. A place that was loyal to the Feral Rebels and especially to our president, Hades. If we needed a place to crash or lay low, the doors were always open no matter the time of day or night. At the back of the property, hidden from the road, an old garage kept tools and junk and provided enough space to stash three motorcycles for the night.
The owner, Phil, locked the garage himself, handing over the keycard to our room and the code to the garage door. He changed it once a month for security, and I memorized the new one, passing the info to Gunner.
He’d been quiet since we separated from Slash. I could tell he was lost in his head and didn’t want to piss him off, but letting him go dark wouldn’t help any of us right now.
“You good?” I asked, pulling a smoke from the pack inside my cut and snapping my steel lighter open to light it.
“The fuck that supposed to mean?”
“You’re too fucking quiet, Gun.”
He shot me a frustrated look and scrubbed his hand down his face. “Didn’t like leaving any of those Serpents fuckers alive.”
That made two of us.
I walked to our room on the first floor, scanning around us to make sure no curious eyes were following our every move. At two in the morning, most everyone was asleep, and I didn’t see any motel room lights on.
“We’ll get ’em,” I replied, swiping the keycard for the room and stepping inside as it swung open. “They’re not gonna live after the shit they pulled. The whole fucking club is going down.”
Trafficking. Rape. Kidnapping.
I’d killed for less for the club and wasn’t opposed to going vigilante and fucking them all up, taking them out one by one so they knew death was pounding on the fucking door.
“I got an idea.” I shut the door behind him after he followed me inside. “Gonna run it by Hades first, but I think he’ll be on board.”
“For what?” Gunner leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest, giving me that shrewd, steely-eyed gaze that most men squirmed under—well, not any of our brothers, but mostly everyone else.
“Xenon.”
His arms dropped. “Damn.”
I shrugged. “The Tonopah Bastards have always had our back. Hades and Grim went to the same high school. They’re tight. No reason to think we can’t ask for their help.”
“True.”
