Page 97 of Ares

I pause. I feel so in love with her right now, but there’s a shadow looming in the distance. Her body language has changed. She’s closed off.

“Don’t be afraid, baby. Do you love me?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Then that’s all that matters.”

I dress quickly, not liking leaving her like this. The sooner I get this club business done the better. But something tells me it’s going to be a long night.

“I’ll be back later,” I say, throwing on my cut.

I turn to leave, but her voice stops me.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but don’t come back tonight.”

Alarm bells go off in my head, but I don’t show it. On the outside I remain perfectly composed. “Why?” I ask calmly.

“Because I need time to think.”

“About what?” My tone is sharp.

“This is happening very quickly.”

“I’m aware, but so what?”

“It’s a lot for me to take in right now. I’m just asking for some time.”

I hate that she’s asking for time. That she has doubts. But I’ll give her what she’s asking. Reluctantly.

In the doorway, I pause. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She nods and pulls the sheet higher around her. I don’t want to leave, but she doesn’t want me here and I need to get back to the clubhouse. Without another word, I walk out and close the door behind me.

Walking to my bike, I feel a heavy weight around my heart.

She’s not telling me something.

And whatever it is, it’s got her frightened.

ARES

“We have to get rid of the bodies,” Jack says.

We’re in Church. It’s late.

“We could take them over the border, stick them in a boat, set it alight, and send them downstream somewhere.” Ghoul has a talent for creative body disposal. “I’m up for it.”

“No, they get turned to dust tonight.” Jack turns to me. “You, Shooter, and Dakota Joe take the bodies to Seamus at the crematorium. He’s expecting you.”

“Where are they?”

Dakota Joe pulls a face. “Stinking up the back of my truck.”

“What about the fucker who got away?” Venom asks.

A thorough search of the now smoldering cornfields and a mile radius surrounding the grow barn didn’t turn up any sign of the third vigilante.

“He’ll be hurting,” Jack says.

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