Page 6 of Unhinged
“Way to be quiet, prospect. If he didn’t hear our bikes, he sure as fuck knows we’re here now,” a gravelly voice scolds.
“Sorry, Pres.”
“Guard the door. Acid. Arrow, search the house. I want Kenny alive so we can question him,” the first man commands, his tone brooking no argument.
I hear footsteps come down the hall, causing my heart to race, but I stay still and steady my breathing, so when they come in, theythinkI’m asleep.
“What the fuck!” a deep, rich voice shouts, and I know he’s caught sight of Kenny.
This is it. Show time. I’m about to put on the performance of a lifetime and they better believe it or I just may be fucked. I jolt upright like I was startled awake and scream when my eyes lock onto the tattooed alpha god that has entered the room. He’s massive—easily six foot three, with ash blond hair buzzed onthe sides and longer on top, styled in a vintage comb-over that makes him look like he stepped out of a 1940s gangster film.
His scent hits next, slamming into me so hard it almost knocks the air from my lungs—bergamot, lemon, and something darker underneath, like black currant crushed under heavy boots. Sharp, fresh, dangerous.
Every instinct I have screams at me to run.
“What do you want?” I wail. “Kenny, wake up! Someone broke in. Help!” I slap at Kenny’s corpse, pretending to try to wake him, my hand coming away sticky with blood. I turn to look at him, pretending to see the gore for the first time, and let out a blood-curdling scream.
“Oh, my God! You killed him!”
Two more alphas come running into the room, and I barely suppress a shudder. They’re just as lickable as Mr. Inked and Sexy. One is slightly shorter, with long, sandy hair pulled back into a bun, his eyes cold and calculating. His scent reaches me a moment later—crisp apple, ripe plum, and sandalwood—undeniably alpha.The other is the tallest, with dark brown hair slicked back and a permanent scowl etched into his face. This one storms over to my side of the bed, grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet with a grip like iron. His mango and patchouli scent hits me, like it’s daring me to fight back.
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?”
The scent of mango and patchouli clings to him, mingling with the blood still wet on my skin.
Oh good, an alpha who likes to manhandle a lady, my favorite.
I allow my lower lip to tremble, looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes. “I met Kenny tonight waiting tables. He was cute and nice, and he asked to have a drink after I got off. One thing led to another and well, we ended up in his bed and now here I am. Why did you kill him? Are you going to kill me, too? Oh god,I’m not ready to die!” I cry, whimpering and really giving them a show.
His expression hardens, eyes narrowing at me with suspicion. “We didn’t kill him. He was dead when we got here. We just wanted to have a little talk with Kenny. How do we know you didn’t kill him?” The way he cocks his brow, like he’s already decided I’m guilty, sends a spike of panic through me.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to keep up the act, even as my heart pounds in my chest. “I was sound asleep until you,”—I point at him—“barged in here and woke me up. I didn’t even know I was sleeping next to a dead body until I tried to wake him up. What if they come back for me?” My voice rises, a mix of fear and urgency that I hope sells the part of the scared, clueless girl.
“She was sleeping like a baby next to the dead guy, Gears. I woke her up,” Mr. Inked and Sexy says.
“Well then, miss,” Gears barks, clearly not in the mood for games. “I’d consider myself lucky you weren’t murdered, too. Now get dressed and get out. We’ll take care of this.”
“We should call the police. They’ll want my statement,” I suggest, knowing full well what their answer will be.
“No cops! We don’t do cops, girl. And if you’re smart, you’ll listen to me and get your shit and get out. Consider this my one and only warning. I’m no gentleman, girlie. So move it.”
I don’t waste another second, jerking my arm from his grasp, grabbing my clothes, and putting them back on haphazardly.
“Thank you. And I swear I won’t say a word. I’d rather like being alive,” I whisper and hurry past the two alphas standing in front of the door.
I pull my jacket over my hoodie, then head down the hall and out the front door, right past some young kid who can’t be more than nineteen. I dart to the sidewalk and start to walk like I’m headed home. Like my ass is on fire, I sprint to the bush onthe side of the house, find Mr. Stabby, and shove him under my jacket as I get back to the sidewalk.
Holy shit, that was close!
I should have left my knife back there and gotten a new one tomorrow, but… I clutch the knife tighter under my jacket, my mind flashing back to my first kill. He’s been with me since the beginning, and he’s important to me, so he’s worth the risk. Besides, I wasn’t seen, so it doesn’t fucking matter now.
All I need to do now is get to my car a few blocks away and get home to my kid. I don’t know what Kenny did to get on the Renegade MC’s persons of interest list, but I was caught off guard by their interruption. Renegade runs the underground in town and I’ve stayed off their radar. They know there’s a serial killer in their midst, but they’ve never come sniffing around my house or my work. That’s the way I like it.
As I turn the corner, I feel a plan forming in my mind. Good thing I planned to call Ike tomorrow about that visit. He lives in the next town over, out in the country, where it’s quiet, and no one asks too many questions. It’s like a staycation when we go, and after tonight, I could use the break. Let’s just hope when we talk tomorrow, he and Jackie are up for some company.
CHAPTER THREE
ARROW
