Page 5 of Nevada

Cash?

I make a mental note to look up the NOLA Rebels MC as soon as I get out of here.

Names are better than nothing, though I still don’t know if he just lied about these two characters, or if he’s just trying to throw me off the scent. The fact is, I have nothing to live for. I don’t care if something happens to me. I just want my sister back.

“My Prez, but he’s out of town,” says Blue Eyes. “But I’ll get your number and text you when he’s back.”

I narrow my eyes. “If you’re playin’ with me…”

“Is that the sound of a dinner date?”

I wish he wasn’t so cute. I don’t need complications right now; I just need answers. But I’m tired. I haven’t slept properly in months. Finding Tilly has become my new obsession, and every time I get a new lead, I run with it.

“No, but if you give me his number, I’ll make it worth your while.” As in, I won’t kick your ass.

He rubs his chin again, eyeing his friend. “Prez won’t be happy.”

“Prez definitely won’t be happy,” he agrees.

I move toward him, running my palm up his chest. His eyes drop to watch my movement. Holy crap, is he… hard?

If the asshole's jeans weren’t so tight, I wouldn’t be able to notice his huge dick through the material. But then again, perks of the job?

“Give me his number.”

“Say please.”

“Please,” I purr.

He grins. Man, he smells good; clean, like he just had a shower, but also wild. Like even his cologne can’t be tamed. It’s a heady concoction of cognac and spice and all things nice. Focus!

Our eyes meet and the heat in his eyes stuns me for a moment. This man wants me. I mean, I’m not the prettiest girl in the room, but I keep myself looking as good as I can. I wear makeup, I always have. It covers my dark circles and takes away the nights I don’t sleep. And tonight, I wore a bright pink lip gloss to match my jacket, it brightens my face and makes me appear awake. Sometimes I like matchy-matchy.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m playin’ with fire?”he says.

Our lips get closer as I flatten my palm over his heart. My pulse is racing as I stare at him, uncaring about anyone else around us. I need this information.

“Give me the number, Blue Eyes.” I try not to grit out the last words.

“I think I like Pretty Boy better. And you’re just shit outta luck, sweetheart. My Prez will have my balls in a sling if I go givin’ out his number?——”

I move fast, tripping him from the inner corner of his ankle and like clockwork; he goes down. He’s a stocky guy, but he still falls. Lucky for him, I didn’t go for the balls.

I’ve been doing martial arts for twenty-five years and I can take this punk. I may not be physically stronger, but I’m fast and I know all the weak points. Half on his ass, half on his side, I flip him over as whistles and shouts sound out around the bar. He’s now on his knees, and I have a blade at his neck.

This could turn very ugly. I’m beating up a biker and his ego’s gonna be hurt.

“Star!” I hear Halo cry, but I’m too far gone.

“You’re pissin’ me off, Pretty Boy. And if you like your balls where they’re currently hanging, I’d give me somethin’.”

“Woah, Mama.” He doesn’t even have the audacity to sound mad. He’s… amused? “We should save this for the bedroom.”

“I should cut your tongue out. Give me your phone.”

He reaches for it. Just as I’m about to take it from him, a distraction at my right is enough for him to get out of my grip as the knife clatters to the ground. He quickly scoops it up before I can kick it away, shoving it in his back pocket. He grips the lapels of my jacket, his eyes dancing in the dim light.

“Don’t break anything!” someone shouts.

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