“Your threats mean nothing to us, all due respect. Clear instructions were made for all clubhouse whores to stay away while we’re under attack.”
Gigi snorts, eying Melissa. “This girl isn’t.”
“You see, that’s the difference.Thisgirl isn’t a whore.”
Gigi gives us one more foul look with her snake eyes and then trundles off.
Cash watches her leave, then prods me in the side. I turn over my shoulder and see her conversing with one of the new prospects.
“What’s his name again?”
“Snapper.” Cash narrows his eyes. “Something’s up with him.”
“How so?”
“We were under attack this morning and he just stood there, weaponless.”
“He wasn’t shooting?”
Cash shakes his head. “I don’t think he wanted to.”
I bite my lip. It’s probably nothing. Lots of these prospects don’t know what they’re in for until they’re faced with danger and seize up.
“She seems to be taking a liking to the new guy just fine. I don’t know why she’s kicking up a fuss over Bishop.”
Cash shrugs, staring at them for another moment before turning back around.
“Come on.” I snake my hand around Melissa’s lower back, prompting her forward. “Let’s get out of here.”
We make it to the front of the clubhouse, where an engine is grumbling to life. Bishop swings a leg over his bike and invites Melissa to mount the back. “I’ll take it from here. You two clean up the tattoo parlor.”
Melissa turns to Cash and me before stepping forward. “Thanks.” Her eyes turn sad.
“You have your phone, yes? Keep in contact with us,” I tell her.
She nods, then brings us both in for a hug. “Promise you’ll be safe.”
I flash her a reassuring smile. “Promise.”
Bishop helps her climb onto the Harley and then signals a goodbye, revving the engine. The bike takes off in seconds, plumes of smoke unraveling from the exhaust as the machine speeds away, turning onto the open road.
It takes a while for the engine to fade to silence.
“Do you think she’ll tell anyone about what she saw?” Cash asks, worry pooling in his eyes.
“I don’t know, but it’ll be a test to see if she’s truly on our side or not.”
“She is,” says Cash. “I know she is.”
I nod, turning away to head back inside. I want to believe that too, but something seems off. Everything seems to have just slotted into the right place since meeting Melissa. It’s all been too easy.
I step up onto the veranda and hesitate before opening the door. We branded her as ours, and I don’t regret that, but there’s a small pinch in my gut when I have a bad feeling about something, and it never lies.
15
MELISSA
Islot the last returned book onto the shelf and wheel the cart back to reception.