Page 70 of Ride Hard
“What.”
The President of Fortitude MC wasn’t the warmest of men. No one called him by his name, only Boss or Sir. He expected results, and when he didn’t get them, he left a trail of blood behind him. I couldn’t blame Sloane for wanting to get as far away from the guy as possible. She was the image of him in her coloring, but her eyes…they must’ve been from hermother.
Her eyes were soft and intelligent. Her father’s eyes were cold, dead, and full ofviolence.
“It’sChaser.”
Silence. Then, “I expected you back a weekago.”
I could hear the veiled threat in his voice, and I narrowed myeyes.
“We ran into some trouble on the road,” I explained. “They targeted her in her home and three times since. Last night, they ran us off the road, totaled the car, and tried to put bullets in both ofus.”
“Is she alive?” His voice was cold, and Iscowled.
“Yes.”
“You left a mess behind. I’m disappointed,Chaser.”
“There was notime—”
“I’m not talking about the trail of bodies. Those fuckers can rot in the street for all I care. I’m talking about that blonde bitch. Betty’s friend thewhore.”
I frowned, then smacked my fist against the desk as I realized he was talking about that bitch Yvette. Sloane’s friend from the strip club. She was still looking out for her, which was usually an admirable quality, but not in this case. It was another problem on a long list of fucked up shit that was plaguing mylife.
“If she keeps causing trouble with the cops, then I’ll have to send someone to clean up,” he said. “I don’t like killing women, especially singlemothers.”
I didn’t doubt him for one second. I also didn’t believe the last statement, either. Emotional manipulation was one of his finer skills. Veiled threats wereanother.
“I’ll handle it,” Isaid.
“You better. You have three days, Chaser. When that fucking sun sets, I want Betty at Fortitude. If you can’t deliver, then our deal is forfeit. Do youunderstand?”
“I understand.” I gritted my teeth as the line wentdead.
Fuck. Sloane would never forgive me if I let anything happen to her friend. I was already almost in the doghouse, but this would be the nail in thecoffin.
“We’re stuck,” I said, emerging from the office. Sloane was twirling a dusty rack of postcards, and the woman was watching her as if she were worried about her shoplifting. “How far is the closest bus stop? Is there one outhere?”
“Nope. Nothing but falling down buildings and rotting shit,” the womansaid.
“Great,” Sloanedrawled.
“You’re a ways from the interstate here,” the woman went on. “If I were you, I’d get to Tucumcari. They have all sorts of things there. They even have aMcDonalds.”
Sloane snorted, and I shot her a warningglare.
“Is there anyone around that might give us a ride?” I asked. “I’m willing topay.”
“Sure. I can phone Tucker. He’s always looking for an extra dollar. Can’t promise you, though. Those boys were out hunting lastnight.”
“Thankyou.”
As the woman shuffled out back, Sloane gave me alook.
“Thank you?” she asked. “Since when do you say thankyou?”
“When I want something,” Idrawled.
We stared each other down in a silent battle, my mind going to the gutter…and back to the lake. It took a special sort of relationship to withstand the fighting to get to the fucking. For Sloane and me, the fuck at the end of a battle of wills was the best kind of orgasm. It was all I could do not to bend her over the counter and fuck her tight ass rightnow.
I smirked, realizing I hadn’t come in that hole yet. When she bit her bottom lip, I knew she was thinking the exact same thing Iwas.
Dirty minds thoughtalike.
“Tucker will be along in a few minutes,” the woman called out from the back office, breaking apart our heated eyefucking.
“See?” I said to Sloane. “Asking nicely gets you all sorts ofshit.”
