Page 70 of Throttle

Brass opens my door for me. “I can’t do that, Tequila.”

“I'm not an ol’ lady, so there’s no rule breaking. In fact, I’m basically a nobody.”

His brows narrow. “You being a nobody is bullshit. And even if I could tell you, I’m not positive about the details. My eavesdropping skills are rusty.” Brass flexes his jaw. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Oh, but you did.

“Do you think it’s unsafe? Whatever they’re planning?”

“It's always dangerous, babe. It comes with the territory, but it’s not my job as a prospect to ask questions.” He sighs, the tension softening. “Don’t worry, your man can take care of himself.”

I tap my fingers on my car's roof, searching for Bullet's motorcycle. Not here.

Brass grunts. “No matter what you’re thinking inside that pretty little head of yours, just stop. Throttle will have my ass if you get yourself into trouble because I ran my mouth.”

“But you do know whatever him and Tank are doing isn’t safe. So… shouldn’t we help them?”

“No. We shouldn’t. Come on.”

“Can I have Bullet’s number?”

“Tequila… Let. It. Go.”

“All right, fine.” I whip out my phone, texting Angel for her Vice’s address instead. He’s involved. Brass spilled the beans after admitting him to eavesdropping.

She sends it to me less than thirty seconds later but reminding me I didn’t get it from her.

With a smile, I tuck my cell into the back pocket of my yoga pants. “Okay. I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Brass squints at me in question. “What are you up to?”

“You going to follow me or not?” Without wasting time, I jump into my car and speed off to Bullet’s.

I could have tracked Throttle and Tank, but they would have noticed me instantly. Not to mention, with Brass following me, he would have obviously known.

You should trust your gut instinct, especially if it's a bad feeling. I'm willing to risk everything for Throttle, even if it puts me in harm's way. That's how it will always be. Him doing the same for me.

He has done the same for me.

I’m not losing Brass, but I figured as much.

Observing the few homes on the street as I follow my GPS's directions, I am left stunned when I reach Bullet's house and see the number. I didn't realize he was living such a luxurious lifestyle.

An angry prospect is right on my heels. “Throttle will have my genitals on a platter. You get that?”

“Oh, calm down. It’ll be fine. I’ll tell him it was my idea.”

“Fuckin’ stubborn woman,” he mutters.

Like earlier, I can sense that something is about to go down tonight. That's why I'm standing in front of Bullet's enormous house, attempting to persuade him to reveal Throttle's whereabouts.

I knock. Then knock again. “Come on, Bullet. I know you’re home. I see your sparkling unscathed motorcycle parked right outside!” Nothing. “Brass is here, and he mentioned he spotted you and the guys discussing something.”

“So much for not bringing me into this,” Brass grumbles, but I ignore him.

“Either you tell me where Throttle is, or…” I have nothing but my desperate plead. I sigh in defeat, placing my hands on my hips, staring at his pretty wooden front door.

Bullet opens it with a groan, his handsome and rugged face scrunching as he rubs a hand down it. “You are one persistent lass. Throttle’s going to slaughter me.”

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