Page 48 of Run Little Killer
Well fuck, guess Mav is pissed.
I scrub a hand down my face before flicking my gaze to Rhett and we share a look. We both know that he's right– and no matter the circumstances, this is what's best for club business.
"What time?" Rhett finally murmurs.
"You'll be out front on your bikes in all black by nine sharp, no kuttes," he says, voice hard and flat.
We nod, mumbling our agreement as Mav huffs out a sigh and leans back, running a tattooed hand through his dark hair. "Now, spare me the bullshit, what happened yesterday?"
"The shitbag driver touched something that wasn't his," I mutter, shrugging. "And we were just finishing what she started."
Mav cocks a brow. “She?”
Rhett chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "Five foot four inches of brat and bite wrapped in spandex."
21
LENNON
Rhett tucks me closer into his side, music growing louder as we maneuver our way through the main hall of the clubhouse. I slide an arm around him, the leather of his kutte smooth and cool beneath my palm.
The fact that they’re part of a club didn’t come as a surprise. I've seen enough episodes of Sons of Anarchy to notice that they were more than just two guys in matching vests with motorcycles, and I’ve slept in Rhett’s Deviant Devils shirt every night since we met.
Nix walks close behind as we move between couches and pool tables. Guys in leather vests nod as we pass, and women in low cut jeans and skin-tight shirts look at Rhett and Nix a little too eagerly.
Two guys with 'Prospect' scrawled across their backs wheel an eerily familiar oil drum past us and through the high top tables and chairs.
"Is that…?" I ask, glancing up at Rhett as we approach the well-stocked bar.
"Kindling for Blaze Night?" he murmurs, his face impassive as he rests an elbow on the bartop. "Sure is."
A bleach blonde in a leather skirt and torn fishnets struts up, lifting an overplucked brow at me as she places a hand on each of my guys’ shoulders. "Usual?"
My jaw clenches, a pang of jealousy rolling through me as the urge to twist and bend her fingers back until they snap simmers beneath the surface. I didn't think twice when they said we had to stay here tonight because of business, but if it means watching a bunch of skanks crawling around on them, I might have a problem.
Rhett dips his chin in the affirmative and Nix murmurs a yeah as he shrugs away from her touch. She smiles, pivoting on the slender heel of her boot as she starts behind the counter. Before she makes it two steps, Nix shoots out a hand, wrapping his fist in her hair and jerking her backwards.
She yelps, mouth hanging open and eyes wide with fear as she stares up at him. "Aren't you gonna ask her what she wants?" Nix asks, tone sharp as he motions towards me.
"Ah, yeah," she winces. "And for you, sweetheart?"
"I'll have a–," I start, glancing over my shoulder at the bar. Apprehension starts to weave its way through me as I realize I can't see the mats or all of the bottles. I swallow thickly, looking back at her. "Actually, I'm okay for now."
Rhett squeezes my bicep. "You sure darlin'?"
"Yeah," I reply, forcing a smile. "Maybe later."
His forehead creases in concern, blue eyes searching mine. There's something dangerous about how he looks at me. All-consuming and possessive, his dark aura wrapping around me like smoke. My heart stutters, breath catching as a sense of stillness washes over me. It's a foreign feeling as the calm starts to creep back in, the unspoken permission to let my guard down, the relief that comes from being cared for.
"Whatever you want, darlin'," he finally says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
"Hurry up with my beer," Nix spits, shoving the blonde forward. Her heels click harshly against the tile as she stumbles behind the bar.
"C'mere," Nix growls, banding an arm across my hips and pulling me against him as he turns and sinks down into a chair.
“Did I say you could manhandle me?” I growl, cutting him a glare over my shoulder.
A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. "Didn’t have to. You're ours, little killer," he murmurs, tongue dragging up the column of my neck. I squirm on his lap, clenching my thighs as his warm breath skates across the shell of my ear. "That means something, in this place especially."
