Page 63 of July 27

She looked over her shoulder and nodded. "I know."

Katrina motioned for her to go inside. "I'll be there in a second."

Stepping inside the clubhouse, she never allowed herself to catch her breath. She was reeling from the conversation, going over every word between them.

Had Katrina finally given her approval to love Ruger? It sure sounded like it to her.

She walked over to Cora's table.

Ruger's sister glared. "What did you do with Katrina?"

"She's outside—she's okay. She wanted a few seconds alone, and then she'll come in." She sat across the table. "I would never hurt her. We were only talking."

"Mm-hm." Cora appraised her.

She crossed her legs under the table. The seconds ticked painfully by. Cora wasn't going to give her the benefit of the doubt. She protected him, even though Ruger wanted nothing to do with his long-lost sister.

None of that had anything to do with her. And unlike Katrina, she wouldn't spill her guts to get Cora to like her. She could like her or leave her, and it wouldn't bother her because it had nothing to do with her relationship with Ruger.

Katrina walked in and came to the table. "Are you guys hungry? I'm starving."

"I could eat," said Cora, suddenly finding her voice. "What about you?"

Ruger's sister looked straight at Rachel. She nodded. "Sure, I could eat something."

Katrina sat down and looked at her phone. "Crab salad or burgers?"

"Burgers," answered Rachel and Cora simultaneously, sharing a smile.

The tension she'd always felt around the other women faced during lunch. With the relief that she could move forward with Ruger without feeling like she had invaded the tight circle of his family, she offered to pay for the food delivery—with her own money, not Ruger's. She made that clear.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Ruger walked into the gym on Sixty-fourth Street. The woman at the counter smiled, leaning her crop-top-covered breasts on the surface. He headed straight to her, gazing behind her through the window to the weight room.

"Are you checking in?" asked the employee.

"I'm looking for Bishop. Is he around?" He walked to the end of the counter.

"You can't go in there." The woman jumped off her stool and rushed to the door, blocking him. "You have to be a member."

The hell he did. He lowered his voice. "You'll either move, or I'll move you."

"Please, don't hurt me." She shrunk in front of him.

"Is Bishop here or not?"

"There are cameras. He'll fire me."

That wasn't his problem. She understood the man she worked for was a fucking dealer. He hitched his chin. "Go take your break."

"But it's not time for—"

"Do it."

She scurried away without giving him another glance. He pushed through the door. From what he'd heard from Milo, the tattooist, Shady supplied Bishop steroids for him to hand out at the gym.

Looking around the room, he spotted the fucker bullshitting with one of his pumped-up 'roid buddies. Ruger walked over to the duo and pointed at Bishop, getting his attention. He stopped, crooking his finger for him to come.

---