Page 48 of These Deadly Vows

I push my wife’s hands away and flick my cigarette into the night, watching it swirl in the wind. Keeping my eyes on the orange ember until it disappears.

“I’m going for a drink.”

Adeline grabs my arm. “Don’t you dare go running to her. To easy.”

I stare down at her possessive grip on my arm, then I look at her face, seeing tears glittering there.

God damn her for looking so damn pretty when she cries.

“Stay here and drink with me or take me with you. But don’t walk away and leave me alone.” Her hand falls away.

I know she didn’t ask for this. To play part in my revenge and the demise of her father. No one will ever replace Victoria, so why am I so fucking tempted to stay? To give in to every demand she asks of me?

“Get dressed.”

Her face lights up with the glow of a million twinkling lights.

Adeline darts up the stairs, then abruptly stops at the top. “Where are we going?”

“Down to the bar.”

The eager grin she had on her face falls and this tight pain in my chest grips me like a vise threatening to end me if I don’t do something to return her smile. “There’s somewhere else we can go. Wear something you can ride in and decent shoes.” Like magic, my words bring that light back to her eyes.

I’m in trouble. I’m in over my head and losing control.

I grab my cell phone from the kitchen counter and dial Capone. “Call the friend. We’re going for a ride. Yeah now.”

Chapter Fifteen

After some quick personal care, like washing my important lady parts, I put on some clean undies and deodorant. I sling the tee of Ghost’s that I threw on to go chasing after him onto the closet floor and stare at my small collection of clothes, wondering what qualifies as appropriate for riding. He joins me moments later.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have no idea what to wear.”

“Allow me.” Ghost starts handing me random articles of clothing and there had better not be anything belonging to his whore in the stack.

I settle on a black Harley Davidson tee with faded orange lettering and a fat man on a hog paired with a pair of jeans with the knees ripped out.

I have never owned a pair of real motorcycle boots a day in my life, so I’m stuck with a pair of black Converse. Not that I don’t love them, but shit kicking boots would be perfect for the occasion.

“Now you look more like an ol’ lady. Might want to do something with this hair if you don’t want it flying in your face.” He tugs on a tendril before tucking the strand behind my ear.

I go up on the tips of my toes, getting in his face, our mouths close to touching, daring him to close the gap between us. “Noted,” I whisper.

“Hurry up, before I change my mind,” he whispers back, flicking the tip of my nose. “I’ve got a few calls to make. Don’t take forever.” Pulling out his cell phone, he dismisses me.

Getting Ghost to kiss me is becoming a game, and I don’t enjoy losing.

Quickly, I put my hair in a loose braid. I don’t trust him not to grow impatient and leave me behind.

In the parking garage Capone is waiting for us, holding two helmets and two black bandannas with the club’s insignia printed on them.

Ghost takes one of the bandannas and covers my face from the nose down, tying it off at the back of my head. “This will protect you from any bugs going in your mouth,” he tells me, then places the helmet on my head, securing the strap under my chin.

“Who’s the other for?”

“Me,” Carla struts up, looking like a total bad ass biker babe. Dressed in a black tee with slits cut across the chest, black skinny jeans, and a pair of black silver studded boots. Her hair is wild and wavy. Red lipstick stains her lips, and her eyes are all smoky and mysterious. She looks sexy. I’ve never been jealous of my best friend until now, seeing the way Capone is staring at her as though he wants to bend her over his black motorcycle and fuck her stupid right here, right now.

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