Page 64 of True Bastard
I smiled, feeling the warmth of camaraderie settle around us, even if Firestride kept a wary eye on the woman.
“If you’re serious, I would like to take you up on that offer.”
Firestride growled.
“Seriously?” Alice beamed. “You mean it? You’re staying in Deadwood?”
Pointing at the growling fucker across from me, I smiled. “He seems to think so. Besides, I can’t stay cooped up in theclubhouse every day. I’ll go insane. So, if you want me, I’m yours.”
“Mine,” Firestride growled.
Giving the snarly fuck my full attention, I said, “Rule number two: I’m allowed to have a job. Now shut up and eat your damn food before it gets cold.”
Alice snorted, taking a long sip from her mug. “You’re a piece of work, Firestride. But if Kyllian’s willing to help out, you could at least try not to scare off my last shot at decent help.”
Firestride just grunted, but I could see the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Alice and I exchanged a look—one of those silent agreements forged over shared exhaustion and gallons of coffee—as another brother walked into the café.
Smiling from ear to ear, Cerberus walked over and slid into the booth next to Firestride, who grunted and grumbled even more. “How’s my two favorite women in the world this morning?”
“Busy,” Alice snapped quickly, leaving the booth.
Looking at Cerberus, I asked, “What the hell was that?”
Cerberus shrugged, eyes dancing with amusement, refusing to answer my question as he grabbed a fork, stealing a bite from Firestride’s plate, earning himself a low snarl. “So, what’s everyone doing today?”
The ride from Deadwood into Rapid City took less than forty minutes, and before I could even ask what we were doing in the city, Firestride pulled into my driveway, while his brothers all pulled in around him, some even parking on my lawn.
I cringed because I knew before they cut their engines that all hell was about to break loose, and it did.
“Kyllian Ward!” The high-pitched shrill of my neighbor, Mrs. Butler, overshadowed the roar of the bikes as the woman marched right over to me. “What in God’s name do you think you are doing, young lady? Where is my car you stole? I knew you were trouble when I first met you. I’ve called the police. They are on the way to arrest you. I hope you know how much trouble you are in, young lady!”
Mrs. Butler’s accusations drew the attention of half the block, faces peering out from behind curtains and screen doors as I glared at the bitter, uptight woman. After months of dealing with her hostility, verbal abuse, and judgment, I refused to take it anymore, and my anger bubbled deep inside me, ready to spill over.
Stepping off Firestride’s bike, I walked right over to her and got in the bitch’s face. “I came to you for help, and you were going to turn me in. I heard you on the phone. You told someone I was here. That I had Karter. Who the hell did you call?”
“That’s my business!”
“Wrong,” I growled, stepping closer to the woman. “You were going to hand me and a little girl over to some stranger, even after I begged you for help. You could have turned me away. Instead, you let me inside your home.”
“I did not!” Mrs. Butler snapped. “You barged in. I couldn’t get you to leave, and then you stole my car! I hope when that man finds you, he teaches you a right good lesson. I told you the life you lead would come to no good.”
I gasped at Mrs. Butler smug smile as she clutched Mr. Kibbles. The brothers gathered closer, and the crowd quieted as the tension between us hung heavy in the air. The sound of distant sirens echoed down the street, growing louder with each passing second.
“You fucking bitch!” I roared, lunging for the woman as Firestride quickly grabbed me. Kicking and screaming, I clawed at him, desperately trying to get to the vile woman. “You fucking cunt! You called the man who killed my family the night I showed up on your doorstep. Is that who you’re fucking talking about?”
The police cars screeched to a halt, their flashing lights and sirens drowning out the vitriol the cunt spewed. Faces, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, peered from behind drawn curtains as Firestride’s grip around me tightened, a silent warning, a reminder of his presence, his power, and the invisible chains that now bound me to him. My gaze flickered to the approaching officers, their faces grim, their hands hovering near their holsters.
They were here for me, no doubt. Mrs. Butler’s accusations, amplified by the flashing lights and the hushed whispers of the neighbors, had painted a target on my back. “You saw her! She tried to attack me!”
But as I met Firestride’s obsidian eyes, a strange calm settled over me. He saw the storm brewing within me, the righteous fury that had finally erupted, and for the first time, his gaze held not just possession, but a flicker of grudging respect.
“Arrest her!” Mrs. Butler demanded as the two detectives I met shortly after Keely was killed walked over. “That’s her right there. She stole my car!”
Detective Powell glanced over at me and smirked. “We meet again, Miss. Ward.”
Firestride growled.
Mrs. Butler huffed. “I should have known you’d be acquainted with the law, Kyllian Ward.”
