Page 12 of Cold as Stone
“For good?”
“For now.” She crosses her arms, and I force myself to look at her face instead of… other things.
“Emma know you’re here?”
Something flickers across her face—hurt, maybe, or disappointment. “Not yet.”
The silence stretches between us, and I realize I’m staring. Again. At Emma’s friend. At someone I used to think of as practically a little sister.
Someone who definitely doesn’t look like a little sister anymore.
Get it together, dickhead.
“So,” I say, grasping for normal conversation. “This is your place now.”
“I guess it is.” There’s a note of challenge in her voice, like she’s daring me to make something of it.
“Since when?”
“Since yesterday.” She starts wiping down the bar, movements precise and controlled. “Devil didn’t mention that when he called the club?”
That’s the thing about Kya, she understands how integrated the club is with this place—with the whole town, really.
“He mentioned the sale. He didn’t mention…” I gesture vaguely. “You.”
“Well,” she says, voice carefully neutral. “Surprise.”
I stiffen.That’s one word for it.
Then it hits me like a physical blow. But it’s not just attraction that has my hands clenching into fists. If Kya’s here, if she’s running Devil’s, then she’s directly in Summit’s crosshairs. And Devil, the manipulative old bastard, put her there.
“Devil!” I bark, scanning the room for him.
The old man emerges from the back hallway, and the guilty look on his face tells me everything I need to know.
“Outside. Now.”
“Lee—” Kya starts, straightening up, but I’m already stalking toward the back exit.
Devil follows, and the moment we’re in the alley, I round on him.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” I slam him against the brick wall, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make my point. “You sold her the bar? You put a target on her back?”
“Get your hands off me, boy.” His voice is calm, but there’s steel underneath.
I release him but don’t step back. “Summit’s been circling this place for months. You know what they’re capable of. And you just hand it over to?—“
“To family,” Devil interrupts. “That girl’s been family since she was knee-high, coming in here to collect her mother. She’s got more right to this place than anyone.”
“She’s got no idea what she’s walking into!”
“Doesn’t she?” Devil straightens his jacket. “Kya Sullivan’s tougher than you think. Always has been. She survived Patty, survived this town’s judgment, survived on her own for years. She can handle this.”
“Not Summit. Not the cartel?—”
“With the club’s protection, she can.” His eyes narrow. “Unless you’re saying the MC can’t protect its own?”
The accusation hangs between us.
