Page 100 of Rider Daddies
“We kill him outside of the clubhouse,” Ash says.
“Sounds a lot easier than it is,” I point out.
Ash gives me a look. “You got a better idea up your sleeve?”
“Not right now.” I stare back at him. “But we have a full day ahead of us to figure something out.”
“Tristan is unpredictable,” adds Lucia. “I know him. His mind is his greatest asset. He might throw a wrench in the works that would stump us all.”
While this is all true, we’re forgetting the main point. Tristan is powerless without his brain.
“We gotta get violent.” I turn to Ash to emphasize my point. “Like, really violent. And then, once he’s dead, we bury him away from the clubhouse, in the desert somewhere.”
“God, sounds like a true crime documentary waiting to happen,” Lucia scoffs.
It’s a big plan. This can’t be easy on her. Tristan might be a deranged bastard, but what Lucia had with him, as much as I hate to admit it, was once real.
I watch as the chuckle dies on her face, seeing a part of myself in her.
She maintains eye contact. “You guys are really planning to risk the clubhouse and all of your biker buddies…for me?” She narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Is this in the fine print for the tattoo—do whatever it takes to save subject?”
“No,” Ash says. “It’s not in the fine print.”
Lucia searches Ash’s face for a sign that he’s lying.
She’ll be searching all day.
It’s safe to say that the connection each of us have with Lucia is different.
Up until a few weeks ago, I didn’t think it was possible to be this obsessed with a woman.
I’m addicted. I want to own every single inch of her.
I look into her eyes and get this desperate urge to move mountains.
I want to know why, but I’m starting to believe that there’s no answer.
At the end of the day, you don’t get to choose who you?—
“I want to stay here,” Lucia says. There’s a pause. “For good. If you’ll have me.” Her eyes flicker between us three. “That doesn’t mean to say I trust you all of a sudden. I want to stay here because…California sucks.”
My chest flips. “You don’t want to go back to all that sunshine?”
“No,” she says. “Why would I go back there when I get a much better tan here?” She folds her arms over her chest as if to play it cool.
But I know Lucia Bianchi…
Maybe even more than I know myself.
“A tan is why you’re here?” I cock my brow. “So, this has nothing to do with us?”
“Humble as ever.” She rolls her eyes. “No. Nothing to do with you atall.”
I’d believe differently if her eyes didn’t linger like that over all three of us, like she’s calculating how it might feel to live a life without us.
I got a taste of how it would feel to be without her for three days.
And it sucked ass.
