Page 79 of Where We Started


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“It’s you, princess.” He took another fry. “The Death Raiders are after you, because you’re the only way Dirk can secure what he’s owed.”

No. This was more information than anyone had given me, but it was all wrong. Like finally seeing behind the curtain, only to realize the secrets all led to my demise. Most of the kidnapping was a blur, but absolutely no one had shared any of these details with me. Not Wes, or my dad…and now I just wanted to scream with frustration.

Silas shook his head, wiping his hands on the extra pile of napkins. My appetite was completely gone, but I worked up the nerve to ask.

“What is it he’s owed?”

Sasha tried to stop Silas right as the roar of a bike echoed outside, shaking the thin windows of the café. From the way the gravel crunched outside, I knew Wes was being reckless and about to rip me away from the one and only chance I’d have at answers.

The bell rang over the front door, and I heard Wesley’s boots hastily reverberate along the floor. Sasha looked up right as Silas leaned closer and whispered, “Your daddy’s club, of course, and every single piece of property it sits on. Your dad traded your inheritance for your freedom, and now it belongs to the Death Raiders.”

With a wink, he was sliding out of the booth, following his mother while Wes stopped abruptly next to me. With a severe glare, he stared down at me like I’d just ruined his day. I couldn’t even care if I had ruined his plans. My brain grabbed hold of the information Silas had just leaked and tried to process what it all meant. Why would my dad leave me something in his will that was owed to someone else?

“River.” Wes regarded me coldly then grabbed my elbow, forcing me out of the booth.

“Ow, Wes, that hurts,” I snapped but he kept walking, dragging me along with him. Sasha and Silas were forgotten as Wes rounded the side of the café. He finally let me go as he fished for his key, gliding next to his bike.

I searched the lot, the sun partially blinding me as I held my hand up for cover, but my car was nowhere to be found.

“I had a prospect take it,” Wes clipped out, apparently picking up on my silent question. I didn’t appreciate him manhandling me or being a dick, so I scowled at him while he straddled his bike.

“You made a copy of my car key?”

Wes shook his head, laughing acerbically while pulling on his sunglasses. “No, River, we fucking hotwired it. Now get your ass on the bike. We’ve already been here too fucking long.”

I was so upset I couldn’t even speak, but I did as he said because I wasn’t eager for trouble to show up in the form of a rival club realizing the president was here, alone. I climbed on behind him, not wasting time with space. My hands hooked over his stomach and I rested my face against his back.

With a twist of his hand, his engine roared to life and Wes brashly sped off, uncaring how gentle he was. The wind was a solid wall against my face, making it impossible to cry, which I was grateful for because I was tired of crying. Tired of feeling weak and emotional regarding this entire situation. I had felt gratitude when my father left me the property, but it was a ploy.

Somehow, deep down, I knew it. This was all a strategy, and I was two steps behind everyone else, and I was sick and tired of feeling like a fool because of it.

The sign for Rose Ridge flew past us as we entered the city limits. My hair blew behind me free and unbound, and Wes sped up, passing cars illegally as the turn for my old street came up. Before long, the dirt from the road was kicking up behind us as Wes raced down the path, coming to a quick stop in front of his house. He was clearly upset, but I was too, and I wasn’t going to apologize for trying to get information about the club. He wasn’t telling me shit.

As soon as his engine cut, I quickly crawled off his bike, shoving at his shoulder a little too hard. Wes secured the bike, but I wasn’t waiting by his locked front door like an idiot. I kept walking, until I was clearing the clubhouse door.

There were a few members playing cards, prospects were working on hanging something, and Natty, the girl from the kitchen I had seen helping Red, was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floors. She looked up at me as I passed her.

“They don’t use Swiffer mops in this place?”

Natty’s face flushed pink. “Uh…I prefer this to those things.”

“So you’re a house mouse?” I watched the door for Wes. I knew he wanted to fight, but we had an audience in here, so maybe he’d choose to cool down instead.

Natty continued to scrub. “Not exactly. I don’t belong to anyone, but I work for my room and board. I have my own room with a kitchen and living space up on the second floor. People leave me alone, I help Red in the kitchen, and I clean the club. It’s a good deal for me.”

That was good to hear. I knew this was common, especially with girls who’d been liberated from stripping, or sex work. In some scenarios, we had women who loved the life; stripping was good if you could do it in a safe environment and you kept the majority of your tips, same with sex work. It was good, if it was safe, and was a benefit. Unfortunately, with these clubs, men took advantage of women more often than not, and the cost outweighed the benefits.

“I think you’re in trouble,” Natty whispered up to me, her big green eyes stared in shock as Wes barreled through the door. She must have seen him passing by one of the windows. I crossed my arms, standing off to the side as though I couldn’t be bothered by Wesley, regardless that I was slightly terrified. Not that he’d hurt me, but this was a new Wes, and I wasn’t sure what he was capable of.

His gaze caught mine. He flexed his fingers, stretching them out before stalking directly for me. “Get your ass in my house, River.”

He reached for me, but I moved, putting the sofa between us. His head tilted to the side, as if he couldn’t understand why I was evading him.

“You need to calm down first.”

He laughed, and then grabbed the sofa and flipped it backward, advancing toward me.

Holy shit.

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