Page 28 of The Vows We Keep
“Fuck. I don’t know. Yes. Maybe.”
“At least admit to what you’re feeling. Halo said the same thing to me when things started to change between me and Rae. What is she to you?”
“I wish I knew. Is she a puzzle I want to solve? Do I want to fuck her? Do I want her to leave? I haven’t got answers for you. When you grabbed Rae from her living room and told her she was going with us, did you know ... didn’t you want ... fuck. Can’t even form a sentence. Did you feel anything for her in that very first meeting?”
King smiles. “How could I not? I’d never met anyone like her. But the need for vengeance was greater than anything else. She grew on me really fucking fast though.”
She grew on me really fucking fast though.
I feel the same way and I can’t explain it. But King loves Rae, I’ve seen it. Is that where Cat and I could end up? Is that what I actually want? “So when you knew, you knew.”
King slaps me on the shoulder. “Yeah. When I knew Rae was the one for me, I knew. But I’m a really shit example of how to find your woman. Doubt my way of doing it would work for anyone else.”
9
CATALINA
“Idon’t know what else to tell you,” I say as Halo asks me for more details than I have.
Halo tugs his hair into an elastic. “Sweetheart, you’re clearly a woman with a very different set of skills.”
“Thank you,” I say. It’s rare someone notices.
“Normal people don’t pull Krav Maga moves that immobilize two bikers, who both weigh double what you do, with the kind of ease you did.”
“You clearly never attended a Krav Maga class.”
“No. But I was a Navy SEAL. How you moved takes commitment to training. Which makes me think it’s protection for you. Because you’re somehow wrapped up in Los Reyes club business.”
I try to respect those who served, even when they are being a total douche canoe. The fact he was a Navy SEAL helps me temper my next question. “You know one of the things that really infuriates me about bikers?” I ask, the blood in my veins reaching boiling point.
“Can’t wait to hear this one.”
“You’re hypocrites who peddle double standards. You won’t let a woman join an MC because, Dios mío, you can’t live like free birds with a woman on your team or some shit. Like women members couldn’t see past the club pussy. Or that our very presence in the club would cause a distraction. But, as soon as the woman learns any kind of skills, she becomes useful. She suddenly holds some value for the club. Not useful enough that she’s worth cutting in on the life. But useful enough that she can help you protect it from the outside. Now, when she’s taken by an enemy club, one filled with men with those exact same values, you all assume she must be a part of the rival club. Do you have any patched-in women?”
Halo scoffs. “Of course not.”
“Then why would you assume Los Reyes let me join theirs either?”
“You make some good points.”
I fold my arms. “Of course I do. You’re sexist, misogynistic, and patriarchal. I am not a member of Los Reyes because I’m not allowed to be. I can ride as well as any man, I can fight as well as any man, and I have a remarkably flexible moral compass. What I don’t have is a dick.”
“Why don’t you start your own club?”
It’s always the answer ... start your own club. “Because the majority of women’s clubs are not taken seriously as one percenters. They’re usually regarded for their community work, for the fundraising they do. I have my own skills. So does my friend. We do our own thing with them. For hire.”
“Which brings us full circle. How do we know you’re not here trying to use those skills? That you haven’t been hired to kill King?”
At this I roll my eyes. “Güey, I had hours to kill Niro, if that were what I was hired to do.Hours.I could have killed him in your yard because you were all too drunk in here to notice one of your men had walked away. I could have driven him to the shore and held him face down in the ocean. I could have injected him with enough chemicals to melt his insides. I could have used any of the weapons I brought with me and diced him up into pieces so small, you would’ve never found a trace of him.”
“But it still makes no sense why you are here. Why come all this way?”
“You have a dad?” I ask Halo, thinking of a different way to play this.
A loud belch filters in from the bar, and Halo laughs. “That was my dad.” He points to a man with wild wiry gray hair and a denim shirt stretched at the seams.
“If he went out on a ride, and never came back, and all you were told was that he died en route, would you stop trying to find out what happened?”
