Page 28 of Blood of Vengeance

With that, the club took off, everyone gunning it hard and following Cutter and me down the highway. Thankfully, we were only about ten miles from Locklyn’s location if what she had sent to my phone had been right. It needed to be because I was barely hanging on to my wolf. If we got to the little blue dot on the map and my mate wasn’t there? There would be no controlling him.

And there would be nothing left of whoever had taken my girl from me.

Eleven

Locklyn

I dropped the phone, unable to speak and think and observe what had just appeared before me all at the same time. Rooster sat on his bike on the far right of the road, but he didn’t matter because before me lay a valley filled with desert wildflowers and tall cacti. On the horizon sat a mountain I couldn’t have named even if I had known more about the region, its hillsides draped in shadows as the sun began to descend behind it. The oncoming night had turned the sky shades of orange and pink much deeper than I saw in Detroit, colors bleeding into darkness, all with a sliver of moon peeking out from the depth. The beauty left me speechless for a good fifteen seconds as I looked out across what appeared to be a painting of a desert sunset.

“Zella,” I whispered, still stunned by the image before me. “You need to see this.”

“Lock? Are you okay?”

I reached down and grabbed my phone, rolling to a stop close to where the biker sat on his motorcycle. A smile broke out involuntarily when her face appeared on my screen, our audio call switching smoothly to video after a couple of taps. But I wanted her to see more than just me. “Hang on—let me flip the camera.”

I tore my eyes away from hers to find the icon I needed, barely noticing her worried expression before changing to the back camera and holding up my phone as I approached the edge of the road.

“Look at this.” I threw the truck into park and hopped out, still unable to take my eyes off the vista ahead. “Seriously, Zella. Look at how pretty this is.”

“Told you,” Rooster said as he lounged on his bike. “It’s a great view out here.”

“It really is.”

“And no tourists.” He turned my way, looking at me with a gentle smile and a knowing sort of expression. “I’m surprised Flinch hasn’t brought you out here. You’re worth the drive.”

I cringed as Zella laughed, the sound of her giggle reminding me that she was watching and listening to everything.

“What’s so funny?” I switched the camera back to front-facing, creeping toward the truck and away from Rooster. Wanting a little space from his assumption because that’s what it had to be, right? He was assuming Flinch and I were…something. At least, it felt as if he was.

Zella shook her head and huffed. “That was a dig.”

“It was not,” Rooster yelled, voice filled with laughter. “I was just stating facts. Don’t go getting me in trouble.”

“It totally was a dig, sir.” Zella grinned, her eyes locked on mine. “And one meant to uncover your relationship with Flinch.”

The biker smiled again, raising his eyebrows as if actually wanting to know that bit of information.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “I don’t have a relationship with Flinch.”

But Zella could be a bulldog when she wanted to. “You sleep in his bed.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. She wasn’t wrong—I did sleep in his bed. Alone.

“Told you,” Zella said. “How long do you think it’s going to be before Flinch shows up?”

“Flinch is coming?” Rooster rolled up to a sitting position, suddenly looking a lot less comfortable.

“Uh…yes?” Because I had told him I thought I might be murdered. “Oh hell.”

The sound of engines suddenly filled the quiet of the gloaming. Rooster rose to his feet, his face going hard and mean. My stomach dropped as the noise grew louder, the sounds of motorcycles approaching at top speeds undeniable. Flinch had arrived, and though his protection didn’t seem necessary, I was undoubtedly happy to see the man.

Even if he did look ready to commit murder.

“I am so sorry,” I said to Rooster before running past the truck, hoping to cut off Flinch before he reached the poor guy. Five bikes crested the hill and came to a stop, practically forming a circle around me. I recognized a few of the riders from the first night at the club, but the only one holding my attention was Flinch.

“You good?” he asked as he swung one long leg over his parked bike and rose to his full height. His eyes catalogued me from head to toe and back again before turning icy cold and sliding over my shoulder to where I knew Rooster to be. Flinch went from big, bad biker to predator in a split second, expression changing and—impossibly—facial features shifting more wolflike. Absolutely terrifying…but not to me.

If I were honest with myself, I would have to admit that the protection thing was hot. I’d never had a man look ready to kill for me. I’d never had a man who would have defended me at all. Flinch coming to my rescue—no questions asked—cracked something open within me, a feeling of wanting to be protected by him. Of liking the look of pure fury on the man’s face all because I had been afraid. That seemed like some antifeminist shit right there, but I couldn’t help it. I had taken care of myself for a long time and was quite capable of doing so. But it was kind of nice to know someone else might be there to help you out when you needed it. That you had backup. That in moments of pure fear, there was someone who would protect you.

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