Page 50 of Tied to You
“Until I tell you otherwise.” Dean’s voice is placid. Flat.
Dead.
Elvis can’t speak, and I wonder what Rocco will make of this. I don’t like it at all, but I’m not questioning Dean, especially in front of Sparky. I need to appear to be on the same wavelength. Last thing we need is Sparky feeding afallout back to his crew and that getting back to the wrong person. Our very own party boy has family on the opposite side of our war. They hate each other, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t help them one day.
Regardless, I see what Dean’s doing. He’s smart enough to know that Sparky knows he messed up tonight. So, we have him in the palm of our hands. “You check in with Sparky if anything changes.”
Left speechless, Sparky and I follow Dean as he leaves, leaving a dumbstruck Elvis on his own. We make it to the vehicles, and almost as if I knew he wasn’t quite done, he kicks Sparky’s car door shut the moment the guy tries to open it.
Sparky spins, his back flat against the door. “Dean, what the fuck?”
“Don’t fucking give me that. You’re not going anywhere.”
Sparky flinches, realising his fate is the same as Elvis’. “What?”
Holding him by the scruff, Dean slams him back, getting Sparky’s full attention again. “You’re fucking lucky I didn’t kill him back there. If it wasn’t for the fact we might actually need his van and your fucking skills, the pair of you would be hanging from one of these fucking trees. Understand what I’m saying?”
Sparky flashes me a look which I don’t react to.
“Got it?!” Dean shouts.
“Yes, I get it!” Sparky’s voice is shaking.
Dean eventually lets him go and storms his way to the van.
I keep my eyes on Sparky, trying frantically to calm my own nerves before I come face to face with the beast possessing my mate. Turning around, I pause and look back at him. “Sit tight. I’ll check in with you later.” I don’t owe him anything, but the last thing we need is these two not showing up this weekend.
Sparky nods submissively and gets in his car.
It’s then I turn, steadily treading away from him. I open the van door and climb in.
Dean lights up, cracking the window. “Let’s go,” he says before I can question why we’re not the ones staying.
I drive for twenty minutes in silence, my mind flitting back and forth between Mollie and the club.
“You going to ask?” Dean flicks his smoke out the window before turning his head to look at me.
I tilt my chin, tossing him a look before looking back at the road.
“You think too loud.”
I grip the steering wheel tighter. Icouldask what the fuck he’s thinking. But it won’t change anything. So what’s the point. I have to trust he knows what he’s doing. “He won’t like this,” I say simply.
Dean shifts in his seat. “Leave Rocco to me.”
Fine.
The silence that drops around us says it all. He knows. But I’m not sure at this stage he cares.
We make it back almost an hour later. Following Dean in, there’s no one downstairs. Both of us know just to head up to the table where everyone else must be. Question is, why? I look down at my watch. It’s late now.
Pushing open the door, Rocco sits with his elbows resting on the table. The rest of the guys look up when they see us. “How’d it go?” Rocco asks.
Dean sits opposite me.
I take a seat next to Skitz. His eye is still black from our punch up. Or more somypunch.
“Fine. The guy lives there with his wife,” Dean informs him.
