Page 31 of Queen of Anarchy (Dirty Broken Savages 2)

The car cranks right up, and River grins, putting her hand on the dashboard. “Ah. There we go.”

There’s something about her smile and the way she knew just what to do to get her old clunker to start up that makes the lingering tightness in my chest ease up a little. It’s soothing, in a way. Being around her is soothing.

River glances over before she pulls out of the drive and notices me watching her. She arches one eyebrow, resting her hands on the steering wheel. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s too early to be checking me out, Priest.”

I don’t even respond to that, just turn to look out the window as she backs down the driveway and pulls out onto the road.

It’s not as far from our place to The Chalet as it was from hers, but it’s still a little bit of a drive. I settle in, glancing over at River again.

Her fingers are tight on the wheel, and there’s something about the set of her jaw that gives away the tension inside her. Something has been different about her since the night of the gala. She’s always been a firecracker, ready to go off at the slightest hint of a spark, but she’s seemed to be wound more tightly these last couple days.

Gage has been the same way, but that’s down to the mystery around Ivan’s body and the fact that it’s a loose end. He hates loose ends, especially when they could come back to bite us in the ass.

I think whatever is bothering River, it’s not just about Ivan’s body or even the possibility of her sister being alive. There’s something else, too.

Something that makes her sit rigidly in her seat and periodically tense her fingers around the steering wheel.

“What’s your plan?” I ask her, more just to have something to say than to actually hear what she has in mind.

“Go to the hotel, get someone to give me the guest list,” she says flatly. “Simple.”

“You think they’ll just hand it over?”

She shrugs. “I’m good at getting what I want from people. I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

I hum under my breath, and River flashes those dark starlight eyes at me. “You didn’t have to come, you know,” she says. “We don’t have to be working together on this. I know Gage thinks we’re bound together or some shit because of what happened at the gala, but I can handle my end of it.”

Her saying that gives me a flash of my nightmare again. I think about her standing in the middle of the ballroom alone, trying to make her way over to me but being grabbed and dragged back. I think about how I couldn’t get to her, couldn’t even see who was taking her away. How there was nothing I could do to stop it or save her.

Bile tries to climb its way up my throat, but I swallow it back, refusing to let any of that show on my face. River has been headstrong and determined to work alone since I met her, and at first, that was how I wanted it too. I didn’t want to get mixed up in her mess.

But now, the thought of not having her close while we figure this out is too much to deal with. If someone knows we’re behind Ivan’s death, then she’s in danger, and I need to be able to protect her.

I don’t let her see any of that, though. She’d probably hate it if she knew. Instead, I just shake my head, letting her interpret the little gesture however she wants to.

She huffs a frustrated sigh but doesn’t argue any more. Maybe she thinks the four of us are united on this so she doesn’t want to have to go through with pushing back against all of us again, like she did when Gage first demanded she come back to the house. Maybe she just wants to focus on getting to the bottom of this mess so she won’t have to deal with it anymore.

Either way, we drive in silence the rest of the way to the hotel. She parks quickly, and we both get out and head toward the large building, trying to look casual.

It’s a lot quieter than it was the night of the gala. No cars streaming in, no valets out front. The police tape that was probably everywhere during that first night is gone, already put up and then taken down.

“Are we walking right in the front door?” I ask River, glancing over at her.

She shakes her head and diverts our path to the side. “Nah. These kinds of places always have a—”

She doesn’t finish that sentence, but she doesn’t have to. We come around the side of the building and find a side entrance, propped open with a rock.

It’s near the smoking area, so probably some housekeeper or bell boy popped out for a smoke break and didn’t want to get locked out.

In the distance, I can make out sounds of a one sided conversation, and River flashes a grin as she grabs the door and eases it open, slipping inside with me following her.

We leave the rock where it is and make our way down the quiet hall.

This place is one of the nicest and most exclusive hotels in Detroit, catering to people who want to spend too much money just so the rest of the world will know theycan. But since we came in through a staff entrance, we’re seeing the less glamorous side of the hotel. There are no guest rooms on this first floor, and we make our way past maintenance closets and closed doors with labels likeGrand BallroomandExecutive Lounge.

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