Page 55 of The Biker and the Loner
Kendra:Yo
Scratch:QUESTION ABOUT THIS ZAC TOOL.
Kendra:Isaac? Shoot.
Scratch:DOES HE WANT IN LEY'S PANTS?
Kendra:Oh most def. But he knows he doesn't stand a chance. So he's cool.
Scratch:JUST GIVING YOU A HEADS UP THAT IF HE TOUCHES HER HE'S A DEAD MAN
Kendra:*eye roll emoji*
Kendra:The only way he'll touch Ley is if she wants him to touch her.
Scratch closes the chat and lifts a questioning brow at me. “So?”
"Oh, for Pete's sake," I say with a sigh. "If I wanted to be with Zac I would’ve done so a long time ago."
Trailing two fingers up my throat, he tells me, "Not gonna try to control you and tell you what to do, but just so you know"—he gently curls his fingers around my neck—"I don't like it."
Wrapping my fingers around his wrist, I pull his hand away from my neck, then press a kiss to his palm. "Well, I don't like you entertaining these Club Cats either, but you don't seemewhining about it."
I straighten from his lap and drop the food bag there instead, then turn and walk out.
"Don't be a stranger, Pretty Ley," Bully calls after me. "We love it when you come around."
"You mean you love yourgut, you lickerish shit," Mask jabs at him.
When I get back to the jeep and fire up the engine, my phone pings from the passenger seat.
Scratch:I WOULD NEVER.
Scratch:I SWEAR.
Me:Neither would I.
Scratch:IT’S JUST YOU FOR ME. ONLY YOU.
And it’s only ever been you for me.I don’t text it, but I do think it.
Chapter 12
Scratch
I'm buzzed intothe building of the imposing three-story, matte-black edifice of Red Cage Investigations. The location is somewhat remote, and I've only ever ridden through those giant electric gates outside once, about seven years back when the club needed RCI’s assistance with tracking down a double-crosser.
The Garza brothers are some cocky shits, but are also well-respected and indisputably the best at what they do. Won’t lie, I'm dirt confused about this supposed meeting. The hell would they want with a shithead like me?
The cute brunette behind the circular chrome desk in the reception area stares at me with widened eyes as I approach.
"You good?" I ask as I prop my forearms on the cold metal of the desk, wondering what the hell's her deal.
"Oh, um..." She clears her throat. "You're just, um, really huge."
"Hmm. Yeah, get that a lot." I wrap my knuckles on the chrome. "Landon Michaelson. Got a meeting with Trent and Tripp."
"One moment." Her fingers fly across her desktop keyboard for a few seconds before her mouth forms in an ‘O’. "Oh, you're Scratch." She looks up at me and gives me a proper once over this time, her expression telling me she likes what she sees. "There's been a lot of talk about you. Also, you're late."
