Raffe isn’t budging. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“I know,” I finally admit. “But I want to hurt him so bad.”
“You already know that he wants to hurt your mom and he was successful. He hurt all of us.” Raffe stretches his long legs out in front of him. “If he thinks Jesse killed his dad, he isn’t going to let it go or he wouldn’t be here. And that’s if he’s telling the truth and he really is Crow’s son.”
“Well, it makes sense. You said mom shot up a bunch of his guys as they came out of a whorehouse. It’s not like Crow didn’t sleep around.” My pulse quickens, my mind racing. “What did you say the name of that place was?”
“I don’t think I did but it was Bell’s House of Tail,” he says, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous name. “Your mom spray painted dicks on their bikes first. When they came out and stood around freaking out about their new paint jobs, she popped them all right in the head. All but Crow and I told you how he met his demise.”
Maybe grandpa wasn’t a cheater after all. What if those receipts I found in his box of secrets are somehow tied to Draven?
Raffe notices I’ve checked out of the conversation. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
“Nothing, I just remembered that I have something I need to do.” I hop up and head to the rod.
“Billie Rose, where do you think you’re going? You can’t drive.”
I turn around and walk backwards. “Oh, but I can. Just not legally.”
“Billie Rose,” he warns, his muscles poised for a chase.
“Chill, uncle. I’m not going to do anything dangerous. Promise.” I run my finger over my chest, drawing an imaginary x.
“You’re missing your shadow. Dirk just told you the rules no more than ten minutes ago.”
I tip my head back and forth as if weighing my options. “Rules are made to be broken.”
Quickly, he puts his fingers in his mouth, whistling loudly for my shadow.
“Tell him I’ll be back by midnight,” I holler over my shoulder as I take off running.
My mom’s rod is getting quite the workout lately as I spin the tires, sending gravel flying everywhere.
I don’t plan on going very far. All I need is to get picked up without a license. And the rod is hard to hide, it sticks out like a sore thumb.
But I happen to know that there’s a bus that goes through Trap County on its way to Vegas and it should be leaving soon.
I knew Grandpa wasn’t a cheating dog. This is the break I’ve been waiting for.
The sun settles behind the mountains in the distance as the bus rolls down the highway. Surprisingly, my phone isn’t blowing up. Huh. Weird. I thought Raffe would have the whole club after me again. Could it be that they are finally going to let me be a grown up?
Before I know it, the bus is pulling up on the edge of the shithole that is known as Trap County.
My foot catches on a small rock as I step away from the bus. Strong arms catch me before I face plant onto the desert floor.
“Oh, gosh. Thank you,” I tell the stranger as I tug on my shirt and run a hand over my hair, smoothing it down.
“No problem,” a familiar voice says from behind me.
I spin in the dirt, creating a puff of dust around my boots. “Elijah!” I take a step back.
He shoves his hands in his jeans. The veins in his forearms bulge as if he is restraining himself from dragging me back home by my hair. “Whatcha doin?” He tips back on his heels, nonchalantly.
Taking a big, deep breath, I square my shoulders. “I have a meeting over there.” I point across the road towards the whorehouse where my answers await.
His big brown eyes follow the direction of my finger. His eyebrows raise and he takes a step back. “No. Oh fuck no.” He pulls his hands out of his pants. “I’m all for you being free to do what you want but no. Nope.” He shakes his tattooed hand at the neon sign of a woman blowing a giant kiss to the desert as if it’s the most ludicrous thing he’s ever heard.
“Christ, I’m not getting a job there. I just have a meeting.”