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Straight to the Henchmen clubhouse.
I didn’t even try to tell myself that I was going there because Dell was there. Or because I could get myself some weapons there.
I knew exactly why I was parking in their lot, then walking up to their front door. Why I was lifting my shaky arm and knocking.
Slash.
We hadn’t parted on good terms.
But his last words to me had been clear.
When I realized I could trust him with the shit that was going on with me, I knew where to find him.
I was finally ready.
To trust him.
To ask for his help.
Almost as if he sensed that it was me, that I needed him, it was he who moved into the space when the door opened.
His gaze went to my face and I watched as a quiet sort of rage took over his face, making him look even more dangerous than usual.
“Who did it?” he hissed, voice deeper than I’d ever heard it.
“So, ah, remember when you told me that when I figured out that I can trust you with what’s going on, that I could come to you?”
“Nyx, who the fuck did this to you?”
“You remember saying that, right?” I asked, tone a little tight, feeling like I was choking on my desperation.
“Yeah, babe, I remember saying that,” he said, nodding.
“I, ah, I’m ready to trust you. I need your help.”
CHAPTER TEN
Slash
I actually caught myself hoping for Erion to show his face, to start a street war.
Something, anything that would demand my attention, that would distract me from fucking obsessively thinking about Nyx.
And beating myself up about ending shit.
“You know, I’m almost happy to head out,” Raff said, sitting on the counter in the kitchen, cradling a mug of coffee between his hands.
He, his brother, Sway, and Coach had been up late partying, as usual. From the looks of things, Raff was caffeinating instead of sleeping.
“Why?” I asked, reaching for a cup for myself.
Sleep had been elusive the night before, despite being tired down to the bone.
“You’re a mood killer, man,” Raff said, shrugging. “I could barely belt outI Believe in a Thing Called Lovein karaoke last night because you were standing there all doom and gloom,” he informed me.
“My nearly ruptured eardrums say you belted it out just fine,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee. “Are you actually itching to get back on the road?”
“I can go either way,” he said. “I like the work and the road, but I like being here too.”
