Page 3 of Steel Trap
“It serves. Not quite as exhilarating as a Harley.” Smith slipped into the plush leather interior. “I understandyou’re in charge while Mr. Hellaby is away for a few days. Don’t stray far, Mr. Hatchet.”
The driver closed the door with a soft clunk then returned to his position behind the wheel. Hatchet stared at the darkened window he couldn’t see through. To his surprise it slid down.
“Don’t make me wait too long, Smith. I might just have to come after you.” Hatchet grinned. The thrill of the hunt wasquite a turn on.
“Patience is a virtue, Mr. Hatchet. You’ll find me when, and if, I need you to.”
The window closed and, with a spray of gravel, the car pulled away. Hatchet watched until all he could see was a moving cloud of dust. “He wants me,” he said to no one in particular.
“Aww! Hatchet’s in lurve.” Orlando passed him, struggling under the weight of some over-stuffed saddlebags.
“Shutit, brat.” Hatchet grabbed the bags before Orlando collapsed beneath them. “Jesus, what do you have in here, cement blocks?” He slung them across Rogue’s bike.
“Well, I have a toothbrush, a pair of shorts and two T-shirts,” Rogue said, coming to stand next to him. “Everything else is his.”
“I only packed essentials,” Orlando said, hands on hips. “Though how I’m expected to fit everything I needin this teensy space is beyond me.”
“Hope you found room for handcuffs and a ball gag,” Hatchet said to Rogue.
Orlando glared at him.
“Sure did.” Rogue got the benefit of Orlando’s patented stare too. Rogue zipped his leather jacket. “Time to go.” He swung a long leg over his bike. Orlando clambered on behind him, ramming his helmet onto his head as he did.
“See ya, cue ball. Don’t miss metoo much,” Orlando yelled over his shoulder.
“Not much chance of that,” Hatchet muttered, though he recognized his words as a lie. Orlando had grown on him. The brat had spunk and he made Rogue happy—that made him good people in Hatchet’s book.
Once Rogue and Orlando were out of view, Hatchet stretched. His body ached—the result of fighting to recue Shelton from Mexican human traffickers. Thebruises and scrapes didn’t bother him but his muscles were a bit stiff. He went to find Crow to let him know he was going to take a ride around the perimeter of Wyvern land. He could catch up with Artie and Bull, check things out and feel the dirt beneath his wheels at the same time. He didn’t want to be cooped up inside. Smith confused him and he needed to clear his head. Maybe make a plan to getthe staid man back in his bed—and this time Smith wouldn’t be there alone.
