Page 38 of Blood of Vengeance

But soon. Very soon.

“You finally ready?” Cutter asked when I opened the front door, sounding pissed. Not that I gave a fuck. I had my eyes on the prospect who would be guarding Locklyn for me. The same prospect who had tried chatting her up at the clubhouse. The same one who needed to learn a motherfucking lesson.

I stalked over to the shifter and punched him squarely in the face, knocking him right off the porch and into the dirt. Not a single brother moved to protect him, though Banger did back his bike away so the shifter didn’t roll into it. Priorities.

I followed after the prospect, yanking him back to his feet and pulling him right up into my face. “You step out of line with her for one fucking second, and I’ll dismember you and feed your intestines to the coyotes myself. After you’ve eaten your own ass for our entertainment.”

“What the fuck did I do?” he asked, his voice filled with an attitude that would certainly get him killed.

It was Rush who answered from his seat on his bike, though. “You talked about her ass, my dude. That’s like basic sexist bullshit right there.”

The prospect huffed and avoided looking at me. “It was just a joke.”

That got Rush to rise to his feet. Got the man stalking closer. I stood back and let him come, let him take control of this conversation. He looked like a man with an axe to grind, and I had no interest in getting in his way.

Thankfully, Rush kept his voice low when he stepped onto the porch, addressing the prospect in a growling hiss that had the bastard’s hairs standing on end.

“Your joke wasn’t funny, and Locklyn is Flinch’s bitch, motherfucker. His girl, his rules.”

The prospect didn’t say a word, showing at least an inkling of smarts as he kept his eyes on my shoulder and simply nodded. Point made, I shoved him toward Rush and stormed to my bike, catching Locklyn looking through the front window as I mounted up. Knowing she had seen that. Not regretting the punch for a second. No one hit on my girl.

Rush pushed the prospect into the chair on the porch then headed for his own bike, giving me a fist bump as he passed. Simple, easy, no words necessary. I hadn’t needed the backup, but he’d still stepped in to support Locklyn. I could appreciate that.

“Let’s go find the fucking truck,” Zed called from his spot in the pack, obviously done with the bullshit.

I barked my agreement along with the rest of the brothers, all of us seemingly ready to roll. We would find the truck and Chiggy’s killer. I would make damn sure of it because the little human staring at me from inside my house needed answers. And I needed her.

Earn her.

Getting revenge on Chiggy’s killer would earn a lot. Maybe not all of her, but some. The rest, I would have to figure out as I went.

Thirteen

Locklyn

Sleep didn’t come easily after Flinch left. In a way, I waited up for him. Listening for any sign of his bike rolling back onto the driveway. None came, and when the sun finally rose, I felt worse than when I had gone to bed.

“I need coffee,” I said to the empty room as I stretched. Coffee would make everything better. Or at least the things I could control.

Once vertical, I got ready and headed for the front door, phone in hand and my maps app searching for local coffee places. I would take a chain if necessary, but I would eventually like to find a little local place to visit. Daily coffee runs could really help a small business.

I pulled up short with my hand on the doorknob, completely frozen in place as that thought echoed in my head. Daily coffee runs…in Mesa. How long would I be in Arizona? I would eventually go back to Detroit…right? But returning to Detroit meant a life without Flinch, something I wasn’t ready to think about. I’d only known the man for a handful of days, and yet I couldn’t imagine a future without him somehow. Which made no sense.

“Coffee. You just really need coffee.” I grabbed the handle and yanked open the front door, practically stumbling when the man on the porch looked up at me from his seat. The prospect from the door of the club. The one Flinch had punched in the face.

Well, this was awkward.

“Morning,” I said, suddenly unsure what to do.

“Where are you off to?”

“Uh…I was going to run and grab a coffee.”

He grunted some sort of sound of acceptance and slowly rose to his feet, a mountain unfurling before my eyes. Flinch and his shifter brothers were huge. “I know a place.”

I nodded and headed for the truck, freezing once more when he opened the passenger door and hopped inside.

He must have noticed my surprise because he gave me a smirky sort of smile and said, “This is easier.”

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