Page 31 of Property of Thrasher
“Brave or stupid.” Another statement not really a question.
“Neither. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to tell my cousin goodnight and I’ll be on my way.”
“Cousin,” he muttered it low and slow. “The hang on with Tiny?”
I blinked. “Hang on? She’s not a thing, she’s a woman. Nevermind.” I threw up my hands wildly. Whatever Lyric had with Tiny wasn’t my business. But she wasn’t some clingy, hanging on him woman. He was as into her from what I could tell as she was him.
His eyes scanned my face, down to my mouth where he lingered a moment longer. My lips suddenly felt dry and I licked them absently before his eyes locked back to mine. “You don’t fit here.”
“Well, thank you captain obvious.” I wanted to smack myself in the head. Like what did this man think? I knew I didn’t belong, but Lyric and I were in this together.
A lazy grin built slowly on his face. “The question I have is are you smart enough to walk out of here before something bites you or dumb enough to keep dancing with the devil and see what happens?”
There was something in this moment. I couldn’t quite describe. I took the bait though. The air between us was thick. “Which do you think I am?”
His smirk was dangerous. “Not sure about you. But the more you talk back, the more I’m interested to see how hot you could be outside of here. You got a fire inside you, baby.”
That was my cue.
The one that said run like a track star straight out of here.
Every rational part of me knew it.
Yet, my feet didn’t move.
He leaned in just enough for me to catch a hint of the whiskey on his breath. “Watch yourself, baby. Some of us bite just to hear you scream.”
Heat shot down my spine, pooling in my belly. Fear and something else, something I couldn’t quite name rushed through me.
“Let Lyric know I went home.” I stepped back before I could get more entangled with this man. “Goodnight.” It came out softer than I wanted, almost in a needy whisper.
His eyes held mine for a second longer before he shifted aside like he was clearing a path and granting permission for my exit.
I walked away feeling the heat of his gaze on my every step. I didn’t bother to stop until I hit the cool night air just outside of the compound gates. Lyric told me to park at the empty lot outside of the compound and I was thankful for that. It gave me a moment to catch my breath.
The words played over in my head: some of us bite just to hear your scream.
I couldn’t help but think over and over … I didn’t know if I would scream or would I dare to bite back.
9
MELODY
I liked the laundry room on the days the hotel was filled with the Kings.
It was quiet when they could sometimes be quite loud.
When I was in the lobby or at the front desk, even along the hallways, I had to be polite and inviting. Not only with the bikers but the guests. People came here tired or some just entitled. Either way whatever mess was left behind, the expectation for me to be a soft landing to everyone existed.
In the laundry room no one asked for anything except another stack of clean towels or bedsheets. The machines did the talking. Industrial washers with a steady churn, dryers that rumbled like distant thunder with a click and clatter of zippers as they hit the drum or the hiss of steam if I cracked a door mid-cycle.
Those were the noises that surround me and helped to drown out the chaos in my head.
The room was hot, the kind of heat that stuck to the back of my neck and made my shirt cling between my shoulder blades. Detergent sweetness layered with bleach bite; clean, but sharp enough to taste on my tongue. I sorted towels into rolling bins, white with white, beige with beige, and the special pile of pool towels that were this beautiful teal color that I always worried would fade, but never did.
Routine steadied me.
Fold. Flip. Stack. Band with a strip of laundry tape. Build a neat white skyline on the metal cart. I could lose my thoughts to the rhythm and not think about the clubhouse party last night, or the way a man with a chiseled but stubble covered jaw had looked at me like he could see straight through my dress, my spine, into the softer things I tried to bury.
