Page 46 of Run Little Killer
I dart a look towards Rhett, cocking a brow as I yank down my bandana. "Did you know?"
He shakes his head. "News to me."
"Something wrong?" Lennon asks, sitting back and stretching her arms over her head.
"Not sure," I murmur, swiping a hand across my stubbled chin.
Rhett tugs off his gloves, shoving them in his pocket as he approaches Lennon.
"Don't stray from the bikes, darlin'," he warns, pulling out his switchblade and pressing it into her palm. "Use this if anyone gets too close."
Her throat bobs with a swallow as she nods.
"Good girl," he praises, placing a chaste kiss to the top of her head.Such a soft gesture compared to how hard he was fucking her in the shower this morning.I swear Lennon has the power to turn him from Jekyll to Hyde and back.
Hinges creak as Mav steps out of the building, the door slamming shut behind him. His face is stoic, hazel eyes slowly sweeping over Rhett before they move to me and do the same. One of Mav's dark brows lifts in the slightest as his gaze settles on Lennon.
My pulse kicks up, heat crawling up my spine as I watch the way he rakes his eyes over her. He may be my president, but when it comes to her, I'd lay the bastard out.
Mav folds his thick tattooed arms across his chest,pulling the black fabric tighter, revealing the outline of his kutte beneath the jacket. "Who's that?" he asks, tipping his chin in her direction.
"No one," I state, hands balling into fists at my sides.
"That so?" he murmurs, the corner of his lip pulling up in the slightest as he holds my stare. "Guess we'll finish this back at the clubhouse."
"Guess so," I scoff.
"Alright," Rhett cuts in, shooting me a look before shifting his attention towards Mav. "What’re you doing here, anyways?"
Mav lets out a low chuckle. "Thought I'd stop by and offer a hand, make sure things ran smoothly."
A jolt of trepidations zips down my spine.How much does he know?Should’ve just killed fucking Kurt and called it a day.
"Wouldn't want you to get those soft hands of yours dirty," Rhett smirks, taking a step towards the building.
"Ain't nothing soft about me," Mav scoffs, clamping a hand down on the back of Rhett's neck and jostling him. "Especially my hands." A smug look etches his features as he looks from me to Lennon and winks.
I tilt my head in her direction and have to stifle a laugh. Her grey eyes ping between all of us in sharp-edged glare, face screwed up like Mav's existence is personally offensive to her.
Thatta girl, little killer.
The garage door on the dock starts to lift, hinges creaking and whining as it rolls up the track. A well-dressed bald man steps forward, hands stuffed in his pockets as he leans a shoulder on the metal door frame. "I take it there weren't any problems today?" he asks in a dismissive tone.
"Rhett and Nix, this ray of goddamn sunshine is my oldfriend, Scott Warren," Mav says, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and placing one between his lips. "I'd tell you to disregard his callous exterior because he's less of a dick when you get to know him, but…" he pauses, taking a drag off his freshly lit cigarette. "That'd be a fucking lie. He's actually worse."
"Just unload the truck, Maverick," he snaps as he pushes off the frame and disappears back into the warehouse.
I stalk towards the truck, motioning to the driver as I move to the back. Rhett's already got the door up, one boot resting on the dock and the other on the tailgate.
"Careful old man, you might pull a muscle standing like that," I remark as one of Warren's men approaches on a forklift.
"Don't worry," he chuckles. "My muscles are still warm from this morning's workout."
"Yeah," I snort. "I heard youworking outalright."
"Had to show her how a real man fucks," he shrugs, the forks sliding in the natches on the pallet.
"She already knew," I say, gloved hand reaching out to steady one of the boxes on the pallet as it rises and retracts out of the truck.
