Page 53 of Grave Games

“You know what? You’re right. My man is a hero.” There was movement in the open doorway, where both Ashtray and Romeo appeared. “You hear that, babe? New girl here thinks you’re a hero, and so do I. You can come home with a busted-up face any day of the week, and I won’t say boo about it if it happened while saving some silly drunk girl from a fate worse than death.”

“Mm.” Ashtray made a noise that suggested he had swallowed his tongue as he stared at me, but I just gave him a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Ashtray,” I said, keeping my eyes on his. “I don’t know if Romeo’s ever told you this, but when I was just a teen who’d never even had a boyfriend, Hades’s son kidnapped me, and for three hellish days he… well, he did what a sonofabitch like Marvel does to innocent young girls. So, if you even had a thought of saving a young girl from that kind of fate, this means you’ve got the instincts of a hero. That’s beautiful to me.” I nudged Mabel’s shoulder with my own. “You’ve got a good man in Ashtray, Mabel. Don’t you lose him.”

“Oh, honey.” Tears sprang to Mabel’s heavily made-up eyes, and she put a strong arm around my shoulders to hug me to her side. “Don’t you worry about a thing, you hear me? One way or another our boys will put that fuckweasel Marvel and his asshole father in the ground where they belong. And you,” she added, pointing a scarlet-tipped finger in Romeo’s direction, “you treat this beautiful young thing like the treasure she is, you hear me? She’s a keeper, girls,” she added, beaming at the ladies in the room. “Shiloh, honey, welcome to the Gravediggers family.”

*

“That was cool of you, not ratting Ashtray out to his ol’ lady.” With Romeo’s arm looped around my shoulders, he steered me toward the Barracks and a set of exterior metal stairs leading up to the second story. “In fact, you made him out to be a damn hero. Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Why make waves when we’re already facing a hurricane?” I shrugged, not sure why I’d chosen to let bygones be bygones. Maybe it was because I was in their world now—a world that was starting to feel like mine—and it only made sense to make it as happy as I could.

“I think you did it because you’ve got a soft heart, and you couldn’t stomach making everyone uncomfortable by popping off with the ugly truth.”

“That’s me, Saint Shiloh.”

“Hell, Shy, I wouldn’t know what to do with a saint, but I’m smart enough to know I should thank my lucky stars I found me a knockout of a woman with a booming bod, gorgeous hair, sass for days, and a heart so good she can’t out the guy who’d jumped her in a parking lot at midnight. He wasn’t supposed to tackle you, by the way. He just got caught up in playing his role in the most authentic way he knew how.”

“Ashtray, the method actor.” I shook my head as we climbed the metal stairs. At this point, nothing surprised me. “Apparently Ashtray’s old lady is the leader of the pack when it comes to the Gravedigger women. For a second I thought she was going to eat my liver before we found some common ground.”

“Mabel’s good people. Stick with her and Misty, and you’ll be fine.”

“Does everyone think the Gravediggers are going to war with Hades because of me?”

“What?” He stopped at a door with the number 210 on its face and stared at me like I’d lost my mind. Then he slid an old-fashioned metal key complete with an orange plastic fob in the shape of a diamond out of his pocket and into the lock. “Nobody thinks that, Shy.”

“Mabel’s first words were to literally ask me if I was the so-calledtroublemakerbehind all the hubbub between the two clubs.”

“Ashtray.” He muttered the name like a curse before giving me a hard look. “Some of my dumbass brothers forget themselves and talk about club business with their women. I’m not one of them, because usually club business is about highly sensitive shit that might be misinterpreted, the way Mabel obviously misinterpreted whatever it was Ashtray shared with her. For the record, most Gravediggers don’t even know you exist, so they sure as hell don’t think you’re the reason our two clubs are on the road to war. That’s not only batshit crazy, it’s also weak as hell. We’re Gravediggers, babe. We’d never go to war over some chick.”

“Somechick?”

“Even one as amazing as you.”

“Smooth recovery.” I grinned as he pushed the door open for me and gallantly motioned me inside. I walked into the basic, no-frills motel room with a low ceiling and whitewashed walls. Several boxes and bags of supplies had already been delivered to a room that had a Queen-sized bed covered in a dated orange patterned bedspread, a wall-mounted TV over a black-lacquered cabinet that housed a minifridge and some dresser drawers. A pair of threadbare armchairs, again in orange, flanked a round table next to the window by the door. A silent AC unit was housed beneath the window, which was currently covered in a set of blinds that looked like they’d taken a beating over the years but were still doing their best to hang in there. Other than being dated, the room was clean and well-ordered, and I could almost believe we were vacationing at some quaint roadside motor court awash with the kitschy charm from a bygone era. Certainly the likes of Anthony Perkins would never even think about knifing someone to death in the shower in this cute little place.

“All the comforts of home.” Pleased beyond words, I picked up a remote, aimed it at the TV and gave a cheer when it actually worked. “Cool, we can fight over what we want to watch. Should we arm wrestle or flip a coin to see who wins? I like HGTV, but I’d be willing to bet you’re a fan of the porn channels.”

Smiling, he closed the door behind him. “You’re taking this way better than I’d expected.”

“Really?” Still grinning, I bounced on the edge of the bed, testing its springs. No memory foam, but its bounce was nice and lively and not too loud. Sweet. “What were you expecting, pouty resistance or woe-is-me tears?”

“You don’t do woe-is-me.”

How wonderful that he knew that about me. “The way I understand it, it’s too dangerous for me to go home. If I didn’t have the Barracks to hole up in, I’d either be crashing on my friend Heather’s couch, or sleeping on the streets, since I don’t even have my truck to sleep in anymore. I’m just grateful for the roof over my head.”

He tossed the key onto the table. “Some might say all the trouble that’s hit your life is because of the Gravediggers. Because of me.”

I looked into his eyes and saw the truth there—he actually believed he’d brought all this craziness to my doorstep. “Are you trying to talk me into being mad at you?”

“I just need to know where you stand. Wherewestand. A few hours ago you were ready to walk.”

“And we both know how that wound up.” I tingled in my girlie parts just thinking about it. “What’s your real name?”

He blinked. “That’s quite a U-turn. I think I got whiplash on that one.”

“I’m serious. I have a right to know the name of the man I’m sleeping with.”

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