Page 119 of Sinful
"Enough." Phantom's voice cuts through. "Both of you. Jesus Christ, you're like children." He looks at me, expression unreadable. "So. An ol' lady. The girl from Florida?"
"Yeah. Helle."
"She's supposed to be in Florida. Safe. Away from this." His voice isn't angry, just stating facts.
"She was. Apparently she changed her mind."
Phantom studies me for a long moment.
Everyone's watching this exchange—the Presidentand his Nomad, working out what this means for the club.
"You love her," Phantom says. Not a question. A statement.
"Yeah. I do."
Another long moment, then Phantom nods once. "All right. Go get your girl. We'll finish planning without you."
"Prez—"
"Go, Bravos. This can wait ten minutes."
I don't argue. Just head for the door.
Behind me I hear Shadow say, "Ten minutes? Shit, give the man at least twenty. He's got three years of Nomad reputation to maintain."
Grace rolls her eyes, "You're disgusting."
"You love it."
"I really don't."
The door closes on their bickering and I'm walking fast across the compound toward the front gate.
My heart is pounding.
She came. She's here. She wasn't supposed to be here, but she came anyway.
Part of me wants to be angry—I told her to stay safe, to wait in Florida, to let me handle this without worrying about her.
But mostly I'm just relieved.
Relieved she's close.
That I can see her. That she's real and here and mine.
Ford is still standing at the guard shack looking uncomfortable when I arrive.
And there she is.
Sitting on her Kawasaki, helmet off, blonde hair catching the last golden light.
She looks tired, windblown, absolutely beautiful.
Our eyes meet across the distance.
"So, uh," Ford starts, clearly out of his depth. "She says she's your ol' lady."
"I heard."
