Page 33 of Diablo

Stevie started moving, snatching her clothes off the floor as fast as she could and yanking them on. Clutching the towel to her chest, she marched to the door.

“I wanted to believe there was some good in you. I wanted to believe the selfish asshole bullshit was just an act. But I guess you proved me wrong, Prospect.”

She shoved the door open with her shoulder and stepped outside. I caught a glimpse of her through the window, furiously tugging on her shirt and kut. A moment later, the roar of her motorcycle came to life and she sped out onto the main road, leaving a plume of dust behind.

I sighed and picked up my own kut from the floor. The Prospect patch on my shoulder was ragged and tattered around the edges from the years of abuse I’d put it through.

The echo of Stevie’s words hung in the loneliness of my camper.

I wanted to believe there was some good in you.

Closing my eyes, I bowed my head.

You thought the devil would change his colors, princess. I tried to warn you.

After getting dressed, I finished hooking up my motorcycle to the back of my camper. My plans of escape had to be put on hold for a while. Now that LeBlanc had announced it was game time, he would make sure I didn’t slip through his fingers. If I tried to run, I wouldn’t get far.

I’d wasted my chance to get away because of Stevie. One look at her was all it took to make my strongest defenses crumble.

Pulling out my phone again, I called LeBlanc.

“Do you miss me that much, Enzo?” he said in a syrupy voice.

“Why wait?” I asked.

LeBlanc paused for a moment.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m ready now. Let’s do this. Why wait until ten o’clock to get the party started?”

LeBlanc hummed. “Impatience leads to mistakes.”

“You’ve been stringing me along for at least a week. We used to pull jobs in twenty-four hours.”

“It’s quite flattering that you remember our time together so vividly, Enzo.”

I gritted my teeth.

Keep yourself in line or other people will pay the price for your sins.

“I’m tired of sitting on my ass, twiddling my thumbs, LeBlanc.”

He chuckled.

“Are you that restless now after your club has refused to grant you the membership you so desperately wanted?”

I could practically hear the wolfish grin in LeBlance’s voice. He was toying with me and enjoying every minute of it. Turning my life upside down and inside out until I had no choice but to do his bidding.

“There’s a rundown bar outside of Merry Field,” LeBlanc added. “Road Rage, I believe it’s called. Meet me there in twenty minutes.”

Relieved, I hung up. I was finally going to get LeBlanc off my back, once and for all.

As I circled around my truck, I stopped at the sight of my kut. I’d draped it absentmindedly over the tailgate. The dark leather was warm from the sun. For three years, I’d worn the damn thing and I couldn’t help feeling a little naked and exposed without it now.

When I reached up to take it down, I faltered.

I didn’t deserve a kut. I didn’t deserve that level of loyalty to family and brotherhood. Grabbing the kut, I pulled it off my truck and dropped it in the dirt without looking back.

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