Page 14 of Bones

Crack!

I yelp, slamming a hand over my mouth as the sound of Bones’ fist smashing into the bulkier man’s nose reverberates through the air. It’s loud enough that everyone close to us hears it over the music pumping from the speakers.

Bones grabs the dazed Sampson by the shirt, hauling him close. “You keep her name out of your mouth, you got it Probie? Or I’ll rip that fucking patch and cut off your back before kicking your ass out of town. Are we clear?”

Sampson blanches and raises his hands in surrender. “Got it, man. Don’t need to go that far.”

Everyone seems to be holding their breath as we wait for Bones to decide if he believes Sampson or not. My heart is in my throat, my chest burning from the lack of air. Sydney’s fingers are digging into my arms and I’m holding her just as tight. A quick look shows Blaze, Chainz, and Brute squared up and ready to fight if Bones needs backup. I’ve paid enough attention to know they’d never back the probie over a full member.

“Good, now fuck off,” Bones finally declares and shoves Sampson away as he releases him. The entire area lets out a collective breath as a fight is averted. Jon ditches my drink on top of the closest surface and races towards Sampson, being sure to give Bones some distance. Sampson pushes Jon away, bitching at him before letting Jon guide him away from the party and into the clubhouse to cool off.

Bones looks over at me, his deep brown eyes blazing bright with reflections of the lights above us and something more primal. My heart races again, this time for an entirely different reason. His eyes travel the length of my body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

Is he going to come over? Will he demand we dance like Sampson did? Do I want him to?

Except his eyes shutter, any hint of desire replaced by indifference. He turns his back to me and strides away, people falling out of his path in a hurry. Only Blaze and Chainz slap him on the shoulder but they make no move to stop him.

Sydney’s grip loosens and I’m standing on my own again. I take a deep breath, readying to tell her I need to go but she cuts me off with a knowing grin. She jerks her head in the direction Bones disappeared in.

“Yeah, I know,” she says. “Knowing him, he’s headed to the back garage. Check the helicopter if you don’t see him.”

I squeeze her hand that isn’t holding a beer. “Thank you,” I rush out before hurrying to follow in Bones’ wake. I’m not really sure what I’m doing but I know that I need to see him.

The music fades the further I get from the courtyard, though there are plenty of people standing around drinking and talking. There’s even a sort of fighting ring off to the distance where two guys are going at each other to the cheers of people around them.

The Knights of Hades are so overwhelmingly different from the near militaristic compound I lived in with the Justicars. Each person or family had their own suite, the higher of a position you had the better rooms. And a party like this? This widespread, chaotic, intimidatingly energetic party would never have been allowed. Any celebrations that were had consisted of polite dinner parties focused on praising the success of a mission or member.

Exposed to the night’s breeze, I rub my arms and hurry towards the large building with an open bay door. It’s a beacon of lightagainst the dark desert. My blonde hair tickles my neck as it lifts up from the wind and I tug it over my shoulder hoping it won’t look too bad by the time I finally make it across the gravel driveway between the garage and the back of the clubhouse. I’m grateful for insisting on flats and not the heels Lacy offered me. Twisting an ankle right now would be mortifying.

To my surprise, the garage is silent. With everyone’s bikes lined up in neat rows and from how the party has sprawled out around the clubhouse, I expected to find a few people out here. If Sydney hadn’t given me the clue about looking for a helicopter, I probably would have assumed Bones wasn’t here. Cautiously, I ease forward into the garage and spot the huge black helicopter to the right.

“Bones?” I call, walking with more confidence towards that side of the garage. Where is he?

I walk around the nose and see the door has been slid open. A familiar jean clad leg hangs loosely from the edge.

“You should be back at the party.”

Bones’ rumbling statement has me stopping though my blood pumps faster in my veins. I force myself to move closer, not letting old habits of obedience scare me away.

I stop a few feet away from where he lounges on the floor of the helicopter, one leg draped out and his boot resting on a landing skid. He’s leaning back against a wall, his face tilted up towards the sky, and his leg is bent close to his chest. He’s holding a bottle of liquor I don’t recognize resting against his thigh.

“I wanted to check on you.” I don’t know why I’m whispering. This far from the party, the music is a low, pulsing hum. There’sa sort of reverence in this garage, though. Like if I speak too loudly, I’ll shatter something I’ll never get back.

He lifts the bottle of peet brown liquid to his lips and drinks deeply. When he lowers it to his thigh again, he rolls his head to look at me. I swallow hard. I can’t read his expression. I don’t let myself look away though. He lifts the bottle again, gesturing to himself.

“You’ve checked on me. I’m perfectly fine as you can see.” He lets out a sigh and returns his gaze to the ceiling of the helicopter.

I move closer, refusing to accept his dismissal. With more courage than I knew I had, I ask, “Are you going to share?”

Bones looks at me again, like he’s trying to determine if I’m serious or not. Finally he holds the bottle out to me. Taking it with care, I brace myself as I raise it to my lips. Bones’ gaze on me is heated, like I’m a force he can’t look away from. It gives me the strength to tip the bottle up and take a gulp of the liquor. I rip the bottle away, coughing at the harsh burn of the whiskey and shove the bottle back at him. To his amusement, if his laughter means anything.

“That’s vile. How do you drink it?”

“Practice,” he says, making a point to take another drink while holding my gaze. When he lowers the bottle, my eyes stay on his tattoed black and white lips. If I touch them, would they feel different because of their intimidating appearance? An agonized groan breaks my stare and I blush, knowing I’ve been caught. “Don’t look at me like that, Sloan.”

I take a step closer to him. I’m playing with fire but I want to feel the burn more than anything else right now.

Bones growls again, sitting up and twisting in one move until he’s sitting on the edge of the copter with both legs hanging out, the whiskey set beside him on the metal floor. “Like you want me. It’s hard enough with you wearing that dress.”

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