Page 101 of Toxic

“Ask what you’re wondering. I’ll answer what I can and ignore what I can’t.”

I gave him a grateful smile. “Are you guys one-percenters, too?”

He gave me a look of consideration before he gave a single nod. “We’re like The Viking’s Rampage.”

“Vigilantes,” I said. It wasn’t a question.

“Mostly.”

“Does it bother you?”

He tilted his head. “Does what bother me?”

“Doing the things necessary… Killing people?” I finally asked when his brow arched at my first wording of the question.

He chuckled. “I was military, just like the men in this club. Killing was my profession for a lot of years.”

I looked down at the brush, fiddling with it. “I guess I’ve just never known many men in the military. My family has always been ranchers.”

“Nothing wrong with that. You struggling with the idea that your man kills?”

I frowned. “No. I think I’m just trying to realign my point of view from nothing but hay, horses, and cattle, to everything you guys do. But you guys protect people. And I think that’s important.”

He picked up another brush and stepped into the stall next to me and started brushing Irene. She turned her head, eyeing him, trying to decide if she wanted brushing more than she wanted to take a chunk out of him.

“Careful she’s-”

“A red mare,” he said with a chuckle as he scratched her between the eyes. “She already tried to bite me earlier today. We’ve come to an agreement.”

I watched with a grin as Irene went back to munching on hay, giving Warrant permission to continue brushing her. I loved the fact that these guys, well at least Toxic, Warrant, and Daryl, knew so much about animals and ranching.

“You don’t need to worry about him. Toxic is a lethal motherfucker. And none of his brothers will let anything happen to anyone.”

Sighing, I looked over at him, but he was staring down at the horse. “Is it that obvious?”

“You’re brushing a spotlessly clean horse.” His smile flashed below the brim of his hat as he looked down at his work. “It’s a tell.”

I hummed in agreement. “Does that mean you’re worried?” I countered.

He chuckled. “No. I’m antsy. Those fuckers get to go have fun and I don’t get to have any.”

I shook my head. “You’d rather go fight than…” I broke off as I realized how dumb my question was. He’d already said that fighting had been his profession. “I know they’ll take care of each other,” I said instead.

“Besides, doesn’t sound like they’ll be in the main part of the battle either. They’re just helping out by watching over one of the Saint’s Outlaws’ old ladies.”

That made me feel a little better, but I didn’t say anything about it. After a few more minutes, I asked, “Do you have an old lady?”

“Nope. Not lucky enough to find mine yet.”

I leaned against Hank and studied him. “But you want one?”

He grunted. “We all want one. Whether they admit it or not, every one of us is looking for that one woman who’ll be our ride or die.”

I smiled. “That was actually really sweet, Warrant.”

He grunted again. “Whatever. Means regular sex, too.”

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “You can try to play off the fact that you just said something sentimental all you want. You still said it.”

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