Page 18 of Death's Deal

Chapter 10

In every way that matters, I know this is a bad idea. I knew it in my soul, even as I concocted it. Thing is, sometimes you sell your soul to the devil for a good spot in line.

Returning to my bike and seeing Toni standing beside it, wearing her sleek black jeans, those heels, and her silky bra hiding under her white shirt, my cock stiffens slightly. Until I’m reminded she betrayed me once and there’s no reason she won’t again for the sake of her family.

Shoring up the gates around my heart and solidifying the notion this is some schoolboy crush come to life, I ask, “Do you have a car you can follow me in?”

She gives her head a slight shake. “No. I don’t have a license and I have no need for a car. The limo or chopper usually takes me anywhere I need to go.”

“Fuck me. Of course.” Chewing the inside of my cheek, and scratching the hairs on the back of my neck, I’m wondering if she’s even been on a bike since high school. The little five hundred I had back then is a drastic change from my ride now. It’s a lot more machine.

Knowing it’s almost two in the afternoon and her threadbare shirt won’t give her much protection, the ride back to the clubhouse will be cool. If her nipples are poking me in the back, I might get into a fight on the PCH from the stares.

Shrugging off my cut, I hand it to her. Muttering through my teeth the whole time, I finally say aloud, “Fucking put this on.”

Seeing the one woman I never expected would wear my cut, I’m blown away as it wraps around her shoulders perfectly. It’s as if it was made for her to wear.

“Shit,” cussing and walking to the back of the bike, I pop open the saddlebag and grab out the spare helmet I keep there. Handing it over and straddling my bike, I wait for her to take a seat behind me. I find myself watching as Antonia releases the tie on her hair, allowing it to flow out freely before refastening it under the edge of the helmet. Doing up the snaps on my cut, she stands beside the bike as I start it. Cursing myself internally for even thinking of her in any way other than a job, after all these years, I am mesmerized by her beauty. Guarding this woman may be the end of my sanity.

Starting up my bike, I wait as Toni climbs on. Tucking herself close, then leaning forward to speak, she talks louder than necessary, nearly blowing my eardrum. “I’ll have someone drop off my things to the club then?”

Taking a deep breath, trying not to seem sharp, I answer her in a flat tone, “I’ll have Poc come by tomorrow. You’ll be fine for the night.” It’s not a question, it’s a command. The last thing I want is someone from the mayor’s office “popping” over with her things to my club.

Against my better judgment, knowing this close is too close already, taking her tiny hands in mine, and wrapping them around my waist, I tell her sharply, “Don’t fucking fall off.”

This is going to be so complicated. Her. Me. Our history.

I really hope I know what I’m doing.

---