Page 33 of Devil to Pay: Cutter

As far as bosses—people—go, Dusty’s great. I think I’ll enjoy hanging out with her.

Not considering myself completely stupid, I wonder how safe going will be since I’m on the run from the Death Bringers. Honestly, I doubt they’re even still after me at this point. Their small minds get distracted easily, and the idea that they’d be anywhere close to Hippiefest is so ridiculous, it’s laughable.

“Can you help me convince Cut into letting me go?”

“I’ll get Reap on it. He loves when I give him some backdoor action. The man’s putty in my hands afterward. You might want to try that with Cutter.”

“Maybe. But with the size of his dick, it scares the hell out of me.”

She laughs. “Just consider it—and use lots of lube if you decide to try. Remember they have lubricants designed specifically for that. No matter, when you get home pack because we’ll leave tomorrow right after work. We can stop for dinner, then be on our way.”

“That sure of yourself?”

“I told you, helovesmy ass. So yes, I’m that sure. He gets ass tonight, you get a trip tomorrow.”

“Devious,” I say, unable to stop myself from laughing, too. “I like it.”

“Thank goodness Cutter met you. I think the smartest decision you ever made was to steal from him, and the smartest he’s ever made was going after you. It’s like kismet or something.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” And I wouldn’t got that far, but it’s nice of her to say nonetheless.

“We’ll see,” she says. “Unlock the door, will you?” Since it’s written into my job description, I walk out from behind the glass separating my desk and little office area from the waiting room to unlock the front door. People already wait outside their cars in a line formed to get in. It’s not unusual for us. Dusty knows her shit. She takes good care of her patients.

For the time being, I decide to let Dusty take the butt action and put it out of my mind. We have a full day of treating people to get through.

“Hi, Mr. Burdock. Come on in.” I hold the door for the old man to push his walker through.

“Such a good girl,” he says as his thank you. “You still dating that boy who rides the motorcycle or do I finally have a shot at taking you out?”

Oh, my god! I try to bite back a laugh, but it doesn’t work. I mean, calling Cutter a boy? I don’t think he wasevera boy.

“Mr. Burdock, are you flirting with me?”

“Not if you agree to go out with me.” He smirks, winking at me.

“Uh—” My mouth drops open. “You’re a dirty old man, aren’t you?”

“Not a lot of time left in this world. Got to shoot my shot while I still have a shot to shoot—and darlin’, I can still shoot.”

I throw my hand over my mouth or they’ll hear me snorting the next block over. “I’m still with the boy who rides the motorcycle.” From this point, it’s either wipe the tears from my eyes or greet the rest of the patients through blurry vision. I wipe at my eyes, still laughing under my breath. Some days I really love coming to work.

“Always too late,” he says while taking a seat and I hurry back behind the glass to check him in before we get swamped and I fall behind.

The day flies by, and after we close up the office for the night, Dusty stops me. “Don’t forget to talk to Cutter tonight. I’ll do my part. Look for Reaper to text with the plans.”

“Got it.”

As the last one out, I lock the door and head around the building to Cutter’s truck. I’d love a Jeep but those are super expensive, at least for me. A truck would be nice, too. I’ll buy whatever I can afford, but I do need to take these mountain roads into consideration. Middlesboro and Bentley are really starting to feel like home, more so than any other place I’ve lived. Maybe it’s because of Cutter. Maybe because I have a job I love. Maybe it’s because I have friends now who don’t want anything more from me than my friendship in return. I suspect it’s a bit of everything. Dusty got one thing right today, I’m beginning to think the smartest move I ever made was to steal from Cutter.

He offered to buy me a car. Clearly, I refused. The last thing I need is Vlad accusing me of taking advantage of Cutter or whatever derogatory thing he comes up with to turn on me. He still doesn’t like me and isn’t shy about letting me know it. The only thing he hasn’t done is outright threaten me again.

I want Vlad to like me, though I’m resolved that he never will. Until I can make that a reality, I fear Cutter and I won’t be able to go the distance. Vlad’s his friend and his president. Cut will never give up the club, nor would I want him to. So then how does he keep me as a part of his life when the brotherhood is so tight?

He’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve to be played—not by me.

Before heading back up to the clubhouse, I stop off at the pizza joint in Bentley for their large calzones and parmesan knots. Cutter beat me home. His is the first bike I spy in the lot. It’s amazing how in such a short span of time, I’m able to identify which bike belongs to which brother. It took considerably longer with the Death Bringers and I had way more at stake then. Knowing when andwhen notto strut my ass through the front doors of their clubhouse helped a girl avoid some highly unpleasant interactions. I shudder thinking about that. How two outlaw clubs could be so fundamentally different is way beyond me.

Cut’s sitting at the bar talking with Rough when I walk inside the dimly lit room—well, dim compared to the bright sun outside.

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