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Wes came up next to me and lowered to his haunches with a bowl of dog food. “I put his dog bed in the office. Figured he’d want to be close to you.”
Tapering my eyes on the food in the bowl, I realized it wasn’t what I had packed for Max. What Wesley gave him was something much fancier, an expensive wet food I couldn’t afford because it was more spendy than human food. Ignoring the kind gesture he’d made, I focused on helping Laura.
“Here.” Killian stepped up and took one of the bags from me, while we exited the house.
I allowed him to take the brunt of Laura’s things, packing them in the back of my car while Laura crammed in the rest. Wes watched from the porch. I took a break from the other two and sauntered over with my hands tucked into my back pockets.
“So, you said yesterday that you’d tell me what you’re worried about and why you’re afraid of selling. You gonna share, or keep talking in code around me?”
Wesley’s lip curled for a half second, almost like he was amused, but he sobered quickly with a quick glare. His phone was tucked into his pocket, and suddenly he was pulling my wrist, tucking us behind the siding obstructing his porch from view.
With his hands on my hips, he drew me close and put his lips to my ear. I closed my eyes because it was so intimate, and I was weak.
“Can you keep a secret, River?”
I nodded, bringing my hand up to grip his arm.
His hot breath washed over my skin as he whispered, “I finished making myself come last night in the shower, picturing you on your knees with those lips all wet from sucking my cock. Then this morning, I woke up hard as stone, still thinking of you, then I saw you in my shower, all wet and soapy, and I fucked my hand to the image and what it would have felt like to have walked in there with you. You make me insane, River, and I don’t know if I’m going to be as strong tonight. So do me a favor and don’t test me. Just be a good girl and do what I say, so I don’t have to teach you any lessons.”
Fresh air hit my face as he moved past me, walking down the steps. I swallowed, suddenly needing air and turned to see a smug smile cross his features as he continued toward the clubhouse. Killian was straddling his bike, Laura was in the passenger side of the car, and everyone was waiting on me.
I hustled down the steps and calmed myself enough to drive without revealing how my hands shook. That asshole messed with me on purpose. He knew I was desperate last night, and I had begged him to finish me. I hadn’t even slipped my hand in between my thighs last night after everything. I just lived with the ache.
Son of a bitch. Tonight, I was going to pull Max in the bed and put him between us. He thought he was clever, but he had no idea how stubborn I could be.
* * *
Laura hugged my neck tight as we watched the large Greyhound bus roll to a stop.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked for the billionth time. I still felt uneasy about her reasons for leaving. I knew her well enough to know she wasn’t telling me the entire truth. Something else was going on, and maybe she just wanted to go. That was okay too. I just wished I knew the entire story.
Letting each other go, she took a step back.
“I’m sure. I’ll call you as soon as I get back, and if you want I can check on your apartment.”
I waved her off. “No need…there’s no plants or anything there I need to keep alive.”
“What about your mail?” She tilted her head as a few people disembarked from the bus, and others were loading their things into the bottom storage hatch. Killian was placing Laura’s bags neatly into one of the slots.
“Actually, it would be amazing if you could get my mail for me.”
She smiled and took a step away, “I still have your key from when I last watched Max.”
Laura stalled as Killian stood awkwardly, watching everyone bustle around him. Laura focused on him, tentatively tucking her hair behind her ear while going toe to toe with the giant. They were laser focused on each other, silently speaking with their eyes when Killian produced something from his pocket. I couldn’t see what it was, but the moment felt private.
I realized this would be my best chance to slip away from Killian without him noticing.
The car was parked behind the partition for the bus platform, so I could drive off without drawing his attention. Hustling into the car, I quickly reversed and watched in my rearview to ensure I wasn’t followed. I felt slightly guilty for taking advantage of a situation that seemed delicate between my best friend and pseudo big brother, but I pushed it down.
I needed to get somewhere with Wi-Fi, where I could find a way to contact that blogger. I realized it was a long shot, but there was an entire network of people actively watching every move these clubs were making and would possibly provide unbiased information about what’s been happening over the past few years. It may lead nowhere, but with Wesley keeping me in the dark, and now Laura leaving, I didn’t have any other ideas.
The bus station was on the outskirts of Rose Ridge, and wherever I went inside the town, someone from the Stone Riders would report back to Wes. Finding somewhere outside the city would be my best option. Navigating to a café along the side of the highway, I pulled in then drove around the side, so it wouldn’t be visible from the road. With my tablet in hand, I headed inside and ordered lunch before sliding into a booth.
Connecting to the shop’s network, I navigated back to the initial blog I found yesterday. Focusing on the page, I scrolled down to the ambiguous username and clicked on it. There was a connected page for more information, a way to email, and even follow them on social media. I clicked on the Instagram link and scrolled through the images listed. They were of various club members engaging in dangerous or violent behavior. Each post was a call to action to raise awareness regarding some ballot measure to outlaw motorcycle clubs from setting up residence within city limits.
I let out a small laugh because several of these clubs were already operating in illegal activities. A ballot measure wasn’t going to do anything; most of the police officers in each county were on the club’s payroll. This wasn’t the way to get change. If anything, you needed a bigger bully to strike fear into the clubs, but that was asking for a war.
My food came, but I was focused on the comments in each image. Snagging a fry, I clicked onto another person’s profile that seemed to be protesting the same agenda as the first blogger. Their images were a little more detailed, with creepy shots of the entrance to different clubhouses. There were even images of kids playing in the yard at one.
