Page 59 of The Bonds We Break
Panicking won’t help King. When a bike comes alongside us, the rider aims a gun at us, but before they can fire a shot, I do the only thing I can think of. I shove my leg into his seat. It’s enough to throw him off balance, his bike falling to the road.
But the action puts us into a swerve, and I scream and close my eyes as King fights with the road and the bike to keep us upright.
And when I open them again, I see the bike and truck have stopped to assist the fallen biker.
King keeps a steady pace until we reach his home, and when we stop, he tugs me off the bike and hurries us inside.
“Who was that?” I gasp, my voice muffled.
King locks the door, then he removes my helmet, followed by his own. “I don’t know, but I have a good idea. Don’t leave the house. I’ll have some prospects come set up security outside.”
And then he leaves me alone, the door slamming shut behind him.
22
KING
The following day, I drop a large pad of ruled paper on the kitchen counter, where Rae is about to unpack groceries.
“What’s this for?” she asks.
We’ve barely spoken since someone tried to run us off the road yesterday. I rode back to the club and shared the details with both Halo and Spark, as my road captain and sergeant at arms. Vex is trying to see if there were cameras of any kind on our route he can hack into to find license plates, suspects, and addresses. But we’re all of one accord. It must be the Righteous Brotherhood. We need to do more than just track them.
We need to eradicate them.
Once we’d come up with plans to enhance club security, track down addresses, and drive around local hotel and bar lots to see if we could find the other vehicles, I’d got a call saying there was a problem with a weapons shipment at the dock. Jasper Haven, our contact there, let us know that someone had raised concern about the shipment. The call had come from Texas, which Vex quickly established was the mothership for the Righteous Brotherhood. Halo was right; they weren’t going to let things go.
It was late once I was done dealing with it, so I crashed at the clubhouse in a mood so foul, I couldn’t even stand my own company.
But as I tried to fall asleep, I kept thinking about how Rae had saved us both with that kick. And how I should have taken an extra minute to make sure she was okay.
This morning, we went to a testing center and grocery shopping. We bickered over food items. She likes plain Greek yogurt; I said it was like eating someone else’s semen. I like eggs and bacon; she said it was more than her arteries can handle. She prefers a salad for lunch, while I want deli meats and bread and cheese. I pretended to vomit when she suggested adding romaine lettuce. Who needs vegetables when there’s mayo?
Rae was also pissed I wouldn’t tell her what was going on. My response of “club business” had been met with a steely and protracted silence that lasted two hours. It ended when I capitulated and told her we’d been having issues with the Righteous Brotherhood.
“I want lists,” I say, tossing down two pencils.
“Lists of what?”
“Those accelerator and brake problems.”
She looks up at me, her blue eyes all wide. “You want a list?”
“That’s what I said, duchess.”
She busies herself with one of the bags from the store, pulling out the chicken I plan to grill for dinner. “I’m about to put the groceries away.”
I reach for her wrist, take the chicken from her, and place it on the counter. “I’ll put the food away, you write your list. I need to know where to start.”
Pink mottles her cheeks. “Where to start?”
“You saw how I stripped the engine of Wrinkle’s bike apart. Looked at every component in the light. You could see wear and tear on the gasket where the timing chain was sloppy. I was looking for clues as to what was broken, what needed replacing. How to fix it.”
Her mouth drops open. “You want tofixme like you fixed your engine?”
The horror in her tone should probably worry me. But it doesn’t. I’m starting to get a read on Rae Miller. She’s lonely. And sexually frustrated. I can fix both those things for the next few months. “Yup.”
“I don’t need fixing. I’m not broken.”
