Page 83 of Maddox
Although his blue eyes twinkle and he winks at me, I sense a darkness behind his words that sends a shiver up my spine.
Unfortunately, between caution and irritation, my anger wins, and I grit through my teeth, “You don’t know me.”
The problem is that I don’t know me either. I thought Joey was my dad and I sure as shit never knew about his affiliation with the Aces.
It turns out, I don’t know much.
Who the fuck am I? And why is everyone lying?
When Kidd’s lips curve into a smug smile, the pot boils over and I lash out at the last person I should be speaking to. “My dad was a fucking biker, dick. Shows what you know.”
It’s a lie, I guess, assuming Joey isn’t my damn dad, but I hate the panic swirling through my system and Kidd’s smug fucking face.
However, I’m still reeling over Joey’s cruel words, and I admit that right about now, I don’t know where I belong, and I guess his insinuations hit their mark.
Although when his smile doesn’t falter but his eyes ice over, I damn myself for spitting out secrets that even I don’t understand.
“A biker, huh?” he says. “Dray over there’s been holding out on me.”
Shit. Fuck. Damn.
Why did I open my big fat mouth?
I need to go, like now.
“The Smokin’ Aces ain’t like the Saints,” Kidd says, and I turn back to him.
“Oh?”
With a curl of his lip, he says, “Buncha pussies. We don’t got time for stupid shit. Ya know?”
I really don’t but I also don’t care. The longer I stand here alone with this guy, the more uneasy I am and shrugging, I muster a smile even as a trickle of unease rolls down my spine.
“You should be careful,” he says, and I eye the patch on his chest.
Is he threatening me?
“Why?”
Are they as dangerous as my brain is screaming or is this asshole all bark and no bite?
“Things are gonna get ugly soon,” he says. “If your dad is one of them, it ain’t gonna go well.”
Oh shit. Ugly how?
“What do you mean?” I blurt and he glances over my shoulder.
Following his gaze, I stare blindly as Draven approaches with a scowl only to freeze when Kidd says, “You’ll see, soon enough.”
“Fuckers don’t have vodka,” Draven barks.
Dumbfounded, I turn away when Draven steps into his arms and they proceed to make out. Meanwhile, I’m reeling.
What was that about? Do I want to know? Was that a warning?
Why is she making out with the enemy? Has she lost her damn mind?
When my neck tingles, I back away and find a place by the wall.
