Page 48 of Blood

“Well, it’s good you were with him then, but as you can see—” She wiggles her wedding finger. A band encrusted with diamonds glints under the lights. “—he’s a married man.”

Is she for real?By the attitude, I would have sworn she knew there’s something between Cutter and Kitty, yet here she is warning me off. The audacity she had after what she did to get the ring was astounding.

I place my glass down, and it clinks against the bar. “Let me be clear, I wasn’t with him when shit went down, just in the same place at the same time. And the last insecure snake who tried to warn me off got her nose broken.”

“Are you threatening me?” Her eyes narrow.

“I don’t do threats.”

“I’m an ol’ lady, you’ll do well to watch how you speak to me.”

“I don’t give a shit who you are.” Getting to my feet, I notice Callan pass by the doorway, alone. “You’re welcome, by the way. And good job going from a club slut to an ol’ lady. That’s a game well played.” Without giving her a chance to retort, I spin around, leaving her standing there red-faced with her mouth open.

“Callan!” I run to keep up with him before he reaches his room. He leaves the door open for me to follow. Once inside, he shuts the door and pushes up the sleeves on his tee, exposing his ink. “Where have you been?” I ask, my insecurity dripping through. I want to kick myself in the ass.

“Don’t question me like you’re my ol’ lady.”

Ouch. Guess I deserve that.

“Is she going to say anything to the others?”

“She’ll do as she’s told.” He empties his pockets and rummages through his dresser.

“Are you going to tell them?” I feel small, fragile, an ant easily stepped on.

“I don’t know, Rogue. What is it I’ll be telling them?” He snaps his head in my direction.

“It doesn’t matter.” I throw up my hands, and they crash against my thighs.

“Why doesn’t it matter?” He slams the dresser drawer closed, rocking the unit with the force of his anger.

“Because you know whose cut this patch belongs to.” I pull it from my pocket. We stare at each other, an invisible storm brewing.

“It doesn’t mean they’re responsible.”

Anxiety swells within me. “Tell me, Callan.” His silence is deafening. “Please.” I exhale.

His eyes soften, and he moves toward one of the metal lockers along the back wall. With a deep breath, he opens it and pulls out a leather cut. Nerves shake the bones under my skin as I take a few steps to where he stands, my fingers stroking over the empty space where the patch should have its top rocker. My focus shifts to the name on the cut.No.

President.

CHAPTER17

REVELATIONS

Iunfold my hand, smoothing out the crease in the top rocker, and hold it up to the blank spot where it belongs. Some of the loose threads are still hanging there.

“Your dad.” I choke on the words. My mind is spinning.

“It’s his cut, yes.” There are defensive notes in his tone.

“He killed her.” My teeth clench. My thoughts scream and I feel my muscles coiling. Her image, dead with bruises up her neck, crashes over me like a tidal wave colliding with the shore, stirring up everything beneath it and dragging it out to sea.

“No,” he snaps, tossing the cut onto his bed. “That makes zero sense. She was a kid for fuck’s sake. That’s not who he is.” His hands go to his hips. Frustration forms a wrinkle across his forehead.

“Then how do you explain this?” I wheeze, picking up the cut and throwing it at his chest. The evidence is right there.

He catches it before it falls to the floor and seethes. “Maybe she found it. Maybe someone gave it to her. I don’t know, but you can’t jump to conclusions.”

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