Page 57 of Hell on Wheels

“I’ve got a session coming up. I’m helping a friend. Bree is an ol’ lady from the Devil’s Murder MC. Her man, Raven, is close to Grim. You should join us.”

“I’ll think about it,” I replied honestly.

“That’s good enough for me.”

I watched her walk away, calling out her son’s name as he stuffed a handful of candy corn into his little mouth.

It didn’t take long to decorate the Crossroads. As my mother used to say,many hands make light work.

The décor looked wicked. Black and orange color scheme. Spiderwebs and giant spiders inside the clubhouse and outdoors. Lifelike grim reapers stationed at the doors. Ghosts. Pumpkins. Plastic jack-o’-lanterns that cast an orange glow. Bundles of hay and scarecrows. I couldn’t help giggling at the numerous headstones scattered around with different comical names like Noah Scape, Dee Capitated, and Albie Back.

As dusk settled over the compound, the lights heightened the festive and creepy atmosphere. Purple glows mingled with flickering black candles. The jack-o’-lanterns lit up the lot with various toothy grins, some downright frightening. A few spotlights focused on scenes that included a coffin and vampire, a woman in a rocking chair that moved on its own, a batlike demon with glowing red eyes, and various skeletons.

Pulling out my phone, I checked the time. Four hours since Flint left. One since his last text. He only messaged once to say he reached Las Vegas and wouldn’t be in touch until he had news.

I hated waiting.

“Hey, Lark. You okay?”

I lifted my head, meeting Spook’s concerned gaze. “Yeah. Just missing Maddog.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. He’s the person you know the best out of everyone here.”

“The one I love.” When the words left my mouth, I froze.

Wow. How the hell did I fall for him so fast? We hadn’t known one another for a week. How silly and cliché to lose my heart to the first guy who showed me genuine affection.

“He loves you too. Everyone can see it.”

“You think so?”

Shit. I sounded desperate to hear confirmation.

“Yeah. Flint is a Marine. He’s never shown his emotions much in all the time I’ve known him. He’s hard as nails. Know what I mean?”

I did.

“But with you, he’s different. Softer somehow but still a badass motherfucker.” Spook shrugged. “I sound like an idiot.”

“No, you don’t. It makes perfect sense.”

Spook’s gaze focused on the group of club members, ol’ ladies, and friends close to the picnic tables. “I see people. That might sound odd, but I’ve always been good at reading them.”

“Actually, I can see that about you.”

“I know when they’re hurting. Like you.”

I sucked in a breath.

“And Maddog.” He ticked his head toward the group. “And Heather.”

“Who’s Heather?”

“The girl trying to break my heart.”

I stood there, stunned by his admission, as he pulled out a cigarette and lit the end. He smoked, watching a girl with raven hair and smoky eyes. Their body language spoke more than words ever could. She stiffened, turning slightly away from him. He took a step closer, refusing to be dismissed.

Heather looked his way, lifting her chin. Something in her eyes seemed to plead with him. Spook shook his head. I could tell he wasn’t giving her up without a fight.

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