Page 73 of Kings Don't Break
He thumbs my bottom lip as if tempted to go in for more kisses but resisting by a thin thread. “Don’t run and hide, Kori. We’re in this together.”
I nod before leaning into him again, resting my head on the solidness of his shoulder. His arms come up around me, holding me, making me feel so unspeakably secure.
…until my gaze lands on the many trees and shrubs surrounding us in the park area and I swear I see leaves rustling. I hear the hurried pad of footsteps rushing away.
And I’m certain someone was watching us.
16
BLAKE
“Remember, tonight’s deal is supposed to be quick and easy,” I lecture, mounting my Street Bob and fastening my helmet. “We’re making the exchange and then getting the hell out of there.”
“Sounds boring. I’d rather we fuck shit up,” Ozzie says. He stops at his bike parked next to mine. It’s forty damn degrees out and he’s got no jacket on, grinning like the joker he is.
“Do that on your own time. It’s almost Christmas. Nobody’s trying to land in the slammer,” Moses says. Like me, he’s already perched on his bike, ready to roll.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Christmas in jail sounds fucking amazing.”
Moses and me merely shake our heads. Sometimes it’s best to let silence answer Ozzie.
But really, as we wait on Mace, I’m not as focused as I should be. My mind’s not set on the deal we’re about to conduct with the Barreras. It’s on Korine and those damn addictive lips of hers. I’ve had two tastes of ’em now, and there’s no going back.
The second her lips touched mine, it was like a return to everything that was once right in my life. Blood had surged to my cock, and I’d felt a feral need to possess her. Make her mine in all the ways she hasn’t been for years.
I’d kissed the hell out of her. She was breathless and starry-eyed by the time we pulled away. Her lips even poutier, her blinks slow, she’d looked at me like she couldn’t believe what had just happened.
God, she was so damn beautiful in moments like those.
Her sun-kissed brown skin flushed with warmth. Her pixie-cut hair tousled by the wind. It took everything I had not to pick her up and carry her home. Back to my trailer where I’d make love to her through the night. I’d have her forgetting her dickhead of an abusive ex ever existed.
I bite down hard on my jaw, sitting on my Street Bob, waiting on Mace. It helps me keep a handle on the desire that rises up so strong it’s damn near impossible to suppress. Ten long years of craving my girl is enough to make me lose my mind.
If only she knew. If she had any idea…
“Ready?” Mace asks, striding out from the saloon. He glances around at us like a general assessing his soldiers on the brink of war.
In a way, that’s what this is—a new fight’s emerging. We’re under heavy investigation yet here we are, still doing what we do. We’re meeting up with the drug cartel we do business with right under Pulsboro PD’s nose.
They’re no moral authority. You’ve got Captain Vargas who’s long been rumored to take kickbacks. He and that other asshole lieutenant of his refused to let Kori file a police report against the piece of shit woman beater they’re protecting. They’d rather look after Stricklin and his career than help Kori out in her hour of need. They’ve got no right to come for our club. I take pleasure in flouting their precious laws that mean nothing at the end of the day when they don’t follow them their damn selves.
Our engines roar to life and we blast off as a formation in the night. We ride just as expertly when it’s dark out as we do when it’s daylight hours. Tight and staggered in our designated positions, serving as guides and covers for each other. Mace heads us up while I keep the rear in check.
The winds from earlier have grown stronger, colder. The frigid air blows back my longer hair and turns my skin into ice. Again I’m wondering how the hell Ozzie’s managing with no outerwear at all when I’ve got a leather jacket on and I’m still freezing my ass off.
We press on past town borders ’til we’re coming up on the barren shoulder of the road where we agreed to meet the cartel. None of the Barreras have arrived.
“Damn, they’re really about to leave us waiting?” Moses shakes his head, his ski mask covering his face.
“They could be running behind schedule,” Mace says. “We’ll give ’em some time.”
We’ve hidden ourselves behind a wall of trees and bushes. Headlights off and bikes tucked out of view, we’re invisible in the night. The few cars and trucks that do zip by from the highway have no clue what’s lurking out of sight.
I dismount my Street Bob and roll my head on my shoulders. Tension’s knotted up inside me. Any patience wears thin. We’ve been planning this meetup for over two weeks now. Miguel and the rest of his crew know what’s up.
But mostly it’s a recklessness that’s taken root inside me and grown almost out of control in recent weeks. From the moment I spotted Korine on the side of the highway and realized she was back in town; the same night Mom and Bill decided they wanted to fuck my world up even more by drudging up the past.
I need to expend this energy somehow. Get it out of my system.
