Page 78 of Biker's Enemy

“Where the fuck are you going?” he says.

Great. I should have anticipated that question. Answering it will expose exactly how much time I need him to keep it together for and who knows how Ruger will respond to that information…

“Southpaw needs me in Missouri.”

“Good. I need privacy with my wife.”

“NO!” Darlene shrieks. “You can’t leave me with him. He’s going to kill me.”

He very well might. I don’t have a problem with him killing Darlene. She’s a goddamn psychopath. I remember Ruger working overtime shifts for the club to keep money on her books while she was allegedly behind bars. I questioned how a woman in prison could spend over $4,000 a month, but he never did. That was his girl and while he might be a stupid fucking asshole… that was all he cared about. Loyalty.

“I won’t kill her,” Ruger says, though he keeps his hunter’s eyes trained on Darlene and she looks like little more than lunch to him. I can’t tell if he’s being honest, and I can’t tell if I care. “Plus. Owen is here to look after her.”

“Owen doesn’t give a shit if I live or die,” Darlene says. She whines the sentence, really, but I can’t let this woman’s tone get to me. It’s all a big fucking manipulation with Darlene and I have Hollingsworth problems to deal with now. Not Blackwood problems. They all like crazy bitches. They need to sit their asses up in church and think about that.

“Actually,” I say, bursting both their bubbles. “I’m taking Owen with me.”

“The fuck is going on?” Ruger says, sliding his finger across his throat to intimidate Darlene into another wailing session.

“Can’t tell you in front of her. But… it’s connected.”

“QUIET,” Ruger says to Darlene, shutting her up instantly. He doesn’t give me much hope that this woman will survive him. I pat him on the shoulder.

“I’d better talk to Owen,” I mutter.

“Take Oske with you,” Ruger says. “Stupid bitch doesn’t even put out.”

“She’s gay, Ruger.”

“So what? I eat pussy too,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. “It would be my biggest dream to fuck that colored girl right here in front of Darlene.”

It’s hard to imagine this man is a result of a deeply religious country upbringing.

“Why don’t you head downtown and meet a nice girl at the local bar,” I say to Ruger. “You’re pent up.”

“Get Owen and Oske out of here,” he says. “Don’t worry about how pent up I am.”

“Right.”

“I promise I won’t kill the bitch until she has the baby.”

Owen and Oske are both sitting on the porch drinking and gambling on a game of Gin Rummy. Shit isn’t going well for Owen judging by the smile on the Indian girl’s face.

“This game is not that hard.”

“Remind me to sell you to the first Midnight SS biker I see,” Owen grumbles. Oske smacks his forearm and they laugh as if there’s something funny about the Midnight SS situation. I never understood people who cope with humor. The only person who has ever helped me cope is somewhere halfway across the country getting her ass in trouble.

“Fun’s over,” I growl at them. “Southpaw wants us back East.”

“Excuse me?” Oske says. “Why do white people think everything is free?”

“Because it is,” I snap at her. “I don’t think you want us to leave you here with Ruger.”

“I don’t want Ruger staying in my trailer at all,” Oske says, standing up and folding her arms. Owen stands up too, most likely to stop her from recklessly launching herself at me.

"He's staying in the trailer," I tell Oske definitively. "So you can work out another place to stay or get used to it."

"I'm not staying here with him. He's a creep. I'm coming with you."

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