Page 60 of Truths

“What's that?”

“I need money to spend time with you. I think you can help me with that.”

Bomb dropped. She's nothing more than a con to him, and she should have just looked through the peephole and never opened the door.Why don’t I ever think of doing that?

“How much money do you need?” she asks, playing along.

“Not a lot.”

“I don't have much money, Ryan. If you give me your number, I can see what I can do-”

His large hand shuts the door, and he locks it. Her pulse races, and the alarm bells in her mind ring so loud she can barely hear him. She's in trouble.

“You can either give me the money, or I can take it. It's your choice, Sutton. You have a lot of expensive things in here. Trust me, I'm an expert in casing out a joint. I can spot valuable shit in a nanosecond. Now, you can give me the money I know you have, or I can start taking what I know I can pawn for cash.”

“I have to go to the bank to get money. I don't have cash here at the apartment. We can meet up tomorrow morning-”

“No, we can't. Because you'll immediately run and tell your biker trash daddy, and he'll try and beat my ass. But if he comes anywhere near me, I'm going to fucking kill him. You hear me?”

Sutton swallows, her mind trying to think of the best option. “Ryan, I don't have cash here in the apartment. No one carries cash anymore.”

“Then give me your card.”

She can freeze it from her phone. Yeah, she can do that. “Fine. Here,” she says and hurries to her purse to grab her wallet.

As she finds her wallet, she sees the can of pepper spray she's had for a few years. She's never used it, and it might not even work, but she has to try. Try and get away from him.

Ryan stands in front of the door, so she knows she can't get out that way, even if the spray works. There's only one other option. Taking out her cards, she tosses them at him. He tries to catch them, and as he's distracted, she pulls the small tube out and sprays it directly into his eyes.

“Oh, you bitch!” he cries out, his hands on his face.

Running to the bedroom door, she slams it shut, locks it, and grabs the phone from her nightstand before locking herself in the attached bathroom. All she can do is pray he answers.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Summerville

Cannon

The clubhouse has fewer and fewer people, and Cannon hangs up the phone after hearing from Hannah that Sutton's okay. It bothers him that she won't even answer his call. After all the space he's given her, she should know that if he's calling, it's important.

Venom walks in and grabs a beer from behind the bar. “Thought you and Colt went to check on Marnie at the bar,” Cannon says to him.

“She's fine. There were no Kingsmen there. An ass-grabbing motherfucker I broke the arm of, but that was about it,” Venom says, popping the top off the bottle of beer in his hand. “Coltwent back to his house after we had a beer at mine. Didn’t want to stay home.”

Nelson walks in and moves to Cannon. “Did you get in touch with Sutton? Is she okay?”

“Hannah did,” Cannon says. “Didn't answer for you, either?”

“Nope. She's fucking done with my ass. Not that I don't deserve it. I'm a fucking moron.”

“Yeah, you are,” Venom says with a smirk. “Oh, calm down. When things settle with her, she'll talk to you. You can make it up to her. You know, if you really want to.”

He shakes his head. “No, Cannon's daughter is fucking stubborn.”

“And you're Mr. Flexible?” he asks. “Come on, man. You fucked up, and everyone knows it. There's no reason to pretend otherwise.”

“Why the fuck are you so insightful? You decide to come off your shadow-clad wall and join the rest of the living? If I didn't know any better, you could be a fucking vampire. All shadows and evil doings.”

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