Page 34 of Property of Prowler
As soon as the wristband was on, she bolted through the door and up to the rail with Prowler trailing behind.
With horns high, she was in her happy place. Nothing was going to ruin her night.
Taylor turned in his arms between sets and buried her face in his chest inhaling his smoke and pine scent. That smell was now permanently a part of her happy place.
It was well after midnight when they were mounting Prowler’s bike to go home.
A windowless creeper van slow-rolled past them before exiting onto the street. It had been parked close by.
Something about it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
She’s just donned her helmet and hadn’t pulled the visor down yet, but she could’ve sworn Travis was in the passenger seat glaring at her.
He blocked her view of the driver, but something about the way he gripped the steering wheel had the bottom dropping out of her stomach.
Just when she’d thought this was a perfect night, her paranoia had to creep in.
It had to be that because she refused to accept anything else, dammit. The date—both company and activity—was perfect.
She’d just started to have a life, one like she’d always dreamed of, and she’d be damned if anyone or anything was going to ruin it.
Taylor held on tight to Prowler as they headed back home. His arm resting across her knee with his strong hand stroking her calf erased all the bad from the last week.
She squeezed her eyes tighter and tighter every time a thought other than how great their date was tried to creep into her brain.
SEVEN
PROWLER
While it had always been a possibility that Cass would find out, Prowler willfully lied to himself about it, thinking it wouldn’t happen yet or that she’d find out after she was married and had kids of her own. Maybe he believed she would remain ignorant forever.
Either way, he’d been wrong. He’d also been wrong about her reaction. She was excited, not horrified. Best of all, she didn’t see him as a monster.
Truth be told, that was his biggest fear. That was the number one reason he’d lied to himself about the reality of her finding out. But she allayed all his fears in that department.
That damn kid brought tears to his eyes. It was his job to do that for her, but she’d turned the fucking tables.
So, there he sat, goofy grin in place as they held an emergency meeting. This time MC and shifter business blended together.
His brothers had yet to ask how she’d found out, assuming he’d told her. It was something they’d discussed when Allie agreed to let her visit more, so of course they assumed that was how it went down. No, they were lost in his happiness as much as he was.
He was loath to break up the mood, but the rest would need to be discussed and with haste.
“I think it’s great news, Prez. One less thing to worry about. And … she’s blood.” Bulldog was a supportive motherfucker. A hell of a vice and friend, but the last words gave him pause.
She’s blood.
Prowler knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was spoken with the best of intentions, but it struck a chord. Family and club were blood. Only blood could hold the secret. Shared or shed, it didn’t matter, but only blood.
Shared was self-explanatory.
Shed was a little stickier—meaning your own was shed because, let’s face it, dead men don’t talk.
Or you shed someone else’s as witnessed by the club.
It was a blood-bound secret.
Shared or shed.
