Page 25 of Blood of Vengeance

He finally tucked his phone away, still looking harried. “Yeah. I really have to get going. We were supposed to meet at ten, but the morning got away from me. This fucking club stuff has to get done before nightfall.”

Club stuff that I wasn’t privy to. “So, go. I’m fine.”

“Your guard isn’t here yet.”

Ah, so that was his holdup. “I can be alone for however long it takes him to get here. I am a functioning adult, you know. I’m alone a lot.”

“Not anymore.” He darted a look my way, frowning as he headed for the front window. “He’s here.”

My stomach sank, but I held myself together. Knowing he had to go and that it made no sense for me to be afraid of him doing so. I pulled myself together and kept my voice flat as I asked, “So, you’re leaving?”

“Yeah. Hang on.” He stepped outside, obviously talking to someone else, though I couldn’t make out the words. He came back inside as I was washing my dish. “You good?”

I looked his way and gave him a smile, still in turmoil inside but fighting through it. “Yeah. I’m good.”

He hurried over, taking the dish from my hands to dry it. “Money’s there, and it’s yours. Spend what you want. Make sure you get a good dinner because I don’t know if I’ll be back in time to feed you. Truck’s yours, too.”

“I know—the prospect will follow me. Text you if he hits on me.”

“He won’t,” he said. Not making eye contact. “It’s not a prospect this time.”

“No?”

“No. I brought in a full brother. One who knows better than to look at you twice.” He stopped, looking me over from top to bottom. “You look really pretty today, by the way. Stay the fuck away from other men.”

I had no answer for him, though he didn’t wait for one. He simply turned and walked out of the house, calling out a curt, “Text me if you need me” before shutting the front door behind himself. Leaving me alone.

And distracted. “What other men?”

Four hours and way more time spent on my hair than should have been necessary, I headed out to Flinch’s truck. The sun shone bright from the western sky, a sign that night would be falling soon. I had plenty of time to get out and do something before it got dark. While ridiculous, considering how late I tended to be out in Detroit, I didn’t want to be outside after dark in Mesa. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be good for me.

The brother—sporting a shock of bright-red hair and the lovely road name of Rooster—rose when I walked past him.

“Where we going?”

I shrugged. “Out. I can’t sit in this house anymore.”

“Shopping?”

I scowled. “God, no. I want to be out, not in. Outdoors. Maybe take a hike or something.”

He stared at me for a solid ten seconds in silence, his face blank and his light eyes just sort of locked into place on mine. They were the most uncomfortable ten seconds of my recent memory.

Finally, he nodded. “There’s a solid drive up into the mountains that I know of. You avoid the traffic of the national forest but get some good views.”

“Perfect.” I grinned, gripping Flinch’s keys tighter. “Should I follow you, then?”

He nodded again then headed for his bike, his lack of conversation skills easily ignored at the thought of getting out into the desert for a bit. I hopped into the truck and started the engine, frowning when I looked at the dash. A single red rose lay directly in front of the steering wheel against the window. That hadn’t been there the day before, so it must have come from Flinch. He didn’t really seem like the roses sort of guy, but I had been wrong before about men. I reached for the rose and brought it to my nose, sniffing the overtly floral scent from a good two inches away.

“Pretty.” But then something else caught my attention, and I set the rose on the seat beside me. The truck had a full tank of gas. I hadn’t driven all over Mesa the day before, but I had driven around quite a bit. Enough to have used at least a few gallons of gas.

But obviously not.

“Must have fantastic gas mileage,” I said to no one right as I heard a slight honk from the bike waiting for me. Rooster had grown impatient. Without another thought, I threw the truck into reverse and backed out of the driveway, my excitement making me practically bounce in my seat. Desert mountain views awaited, and I was ready for them. Sure, I’d spent yesterday in the desert, but that hadn’t been fun. At all. I needed a little hike and some fresh air away from the stress of the Hellions and what had happened to Chiggy. I needed space. Something hard to find back in Detroit.

I followed Rooster to the highway, both of us speeding up once we made it to the concrete road. He signaled well in advance and always seemed to wait for me to make a turn, being a good leader. Other than that, we had no interactions. One truck and one bike, alone and yet together. I followed him for a solid hour, enjoying the ride and singing along to the radio as the houses grew farther apart.

But as the desert grew more desertlike, the land becoming more hostile, my thoughts slipped to my dad. What had he been doing out in the middle of nowhere? Who had he been meeting? He’d said he’d done what he was supposed to—what could that be? I didn’t know my dad like his Hellion Riders did, but nothing about that moment fit into what I did know of him. He wasn’t a dumb man—he wouldn’t have fallen victim to some scheme. And he certainly wouldn’t have worked with any sort of government agency or other group against his own crew. So why had he been out there alone? And who had killed him?

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