Page 26 of The Wild Charge

Sensing he was being studied, Tenny glanced back at him, brows lifting in mild inquiry. He seemed truly relaxed, in expression and body. “Problem?”

“No.” Reese returned to his burger. “Everything’s fine.”

Tenny grinned, quick but true, before turning away, and reaching for another handful of fries. He hummed a few notes under his breath, a snatch of a song Reese didn’t recognize.

He was happy, Reese realized – and, after a beat, realized that he was, too.

~*~

From Freddy’s, they swung by Walmart and picked up a few essentials for the trip, small items that would fit in Tenny’s backpack. The sun had set by the time they reached Dartmoor, the big security lights on all the lampposts coming on with low thumps.

They had an early wakeup call in the morning, and, not trusting himself to lie down and innocently go to sleep if they retired to the same room, Tenny pulled out his cigarettes, waved the packet at Reese and said, “I’m gonna go have a smoke.”

Reese nodded, and went inside.

Alone, Tenny lit up and took a few deep drags, eyes closing, briefly, as he replayed the scene from the barn apartment. Christ, but he’d never expected that: Reese getting so willingly on his knees for him. Of course he’d been enthusiastic, and a quick study.

Tenny had never come so hard in his life.

If he lingered over the thought of it, he could get hard standing right here. Tingling pleasantly all over, his opened his eyes, shoved the thoughts down, and headed across the parking lot for the trucking warehouse.

Deacon was on duty there – to use the word loosely. He sat on a folding chair, smoking, bent over his phone, the glow of the screen illuminating a slack, unintelligent expression. He didn’t hear Tenny’s approach, and so Tenny took great pleasure in clearing his throat, loudly, and scaring the hell out of him.

Deacon bolted upright so fast he dropped his phone. It cracked against the pavement ominously, and he swore.

“Shit. Fucking…” When he clocked that it was Tenny, he scowled. “What the fuck, man?”

Tenny swayed toward him, his voice low and cold. “Problem?” he asked in an entirely different voice than the one he’d used with Reese a little while ago.

Deacon shrank back with an audible gulp. “No.”

Tenny stepped toward the door.

“Wait! What are you doing?”

“Interrogating the prisoner,” he said, tone bored. Tired of the worries of an idiot.

“Where’s Ghost?” Deacon asked, skeptical.

“Busy with more important things.”

“You can’t–”

“I can’t what? Talk to him? I have orders, and they certainly didn’t come fromyou, Deacon. Are you going to stand in the way of a fully-patched member,prospect?”

Deacon studied him a long moment, until the cigarette in his hand had burned down and he flicked the smoking butt away with a hiss of pain. He scowled, but faced with the reminder of their respective statuses within the club, finally said, “No.” Grudging, petulant. “Go on.” He flapped a hand toward the door. “Try not to fucking knife him,” he muttered.

“What was that?”

“I said good luck.”

Tenny bit back a grin as he let himself into the dark office and pulled the keys for the inner door from the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. They were on a ring of several, including the big, flashing silver Master key that opened the padlock on the cattle trailer where Luis was being kept.

He gripped the keys tight, so they wouldn’t jangle, and slipped soundlessly through the door into the warehouse; walked slow and soft toward the trailer, which was starting tosmell. If you gave a man a bed of straw, a bucket for necessities, and didn’t let him shower? Scents began to percolate.

Moonlight fell in pale blue shafts through the fiberglass skylights high above in the ceiling. One slipped through the slats of the trailer, landing on the scuffed and dirty hands of their prisoner, clasped together in his lap, as he sat leaning back against the trailer wall, eyes open, but unfocused.

“Lost in thought?” Tenny inquired in a polite voice, and Luis startled.

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