Page 55 of Twister's Salvation
“Try me,” I grunted.
“There’s chatter about The Ledger being tied to old money in Madison,” Swift said.“Like real old.Political dynasties, real estate, university donors, backroom handshakes, kind of shit.”
“So not just small-time thugs?”I asked and arched a brow.
“More like ghost kings,” Rev said.“No faces.No names.Just whispers.”
“Perfect,” I muttered and scrubbed a hand over my face.“Fucking ghost stories.”
“They don’t play fair,” Swift warned.“If they want us out, they’ll dig in.Could be the start of a war.”
“I don’t care who they are,” I said.“We’re not going anywhere.”
They nodded.
“No one is going to push us out of Madison.The club stays here, and this is where Tempi is.We’re fucking cemented here no matter fucking what.”
That was that.
A couple hours passed.The clubhouse was quieter than usual.Most of the guys had either gone to check out State Street or were tucked away in their rooms.I sat at the bar for a while, chain-smoking like I was twenty and angry at the world again.
Then the front door creaked open behind me.
Boots.Soft ones.
Tempi.
I turned around, and there she was, wearing tight jeans, a faded hoodie that had the bar’s name across the chest, and a look in her eyes I couldn’t quite place.
“Thought I’d come see the biker in his natural habitat,” she joked and stepped inside.
I shut the door behind her and locked it.“Glad you did.”
Her eyes scanned the place.“It’s quieter than I expected.”
“Saturday night,” I said.“Some of the guys are out, others are asleep or buried in porn and whiskey.”
She grinned.“Charming.”
I nodded toward the stairs.“Wanna come up?”
Her answer was to walk ahead of me and start climbing the stairs.
My room was simple: bed, dresser, blackout curtains, a few spare shirts tossed in a chair.I shut the door behind us and leaned against it for a second, and just watched her.She moved around like she belonged there.
“Tempi,” I said.
She turned.“Yeah?”
“What are you really doing here?”
Her smile faltered just a little.“I think I’m trying to figure out what the hell this is.”
“This?”
“You and me,” she said, and crossed her arms.“I don’t do half in.I don’t do games.And I’ve been trying really hard not to let myself fall into something I don’t understand, but then you go and kiss me like I’m the only woman in the world, and now I can’t think straight.”
I swallowed hard.“It’s not a game.I thought we worked that out?”
