Page 23 of Cold as Stone
The call ends, leaving me staring at my phone with a knot in my stomach. What the hell had I just agreed to? I guess I’d find out tomorrow.
Thursday arrives with steel-gray clouds and a chill that cuts through my jacket as I unlock the front door of Devil’s. The bar feels different in the daylight. The scuffs on the floorboards are more visible, the wear on the bar stools more apparent. It’s like seeing someone without their makeup on—all their flaws and character laid bare.
It’s my favorite part of the day.
I’m restocking the bar when I hear the first rumble of motorcycles in the parking lot. My watch reads 2:45. They’re early.
The door opens, and Duck enters first, followed by Stone, Emma and Lee’s dad, and the club’s president. I haven’t seen him in years, but the silver threading through his dark hair suits him.
Behind him comes a steady stream of leather and denim—Cash and Mack, Bones, and several others I recognize from around town but don’t know by name. Lee enters with the group and his gaze locks with mine across the room. His expression is unreadable as he takes in the sight of me here, in the middle of club business.
Last to enter is a man with a carefully trimmed beard and piercing eyes that seem to catalogue every detail of the room. His cut identifies him as “Axel - Road Captain.”
“Kya.” Duck nods in greeting. “Appreciate you letting us use the space.”
“My pleasure,” I say, gesturing toward the back room where I’ve already set up tables and chairs. “Coffee’s fresh if anyone wants some.”
Stone approaches, his eyes warming with recognition. “Kya Sullivan. It’s been a while.”
“Mr. Armstrong.” I extend my hand, expecting a shake. I get a hug instead. A real one, like what I imagine a father might give a daughter he hasn’t seen in years.
It’s warm and tight, and for a beat I let myself pretend he’s my parent, grateful to have me home.
Silly girl. You don’t have any family left.
“It’s Stone to you now,” he says with a slight smile as he puts me back on the ground. “You’re not a kid anymore.”
“No, sir,” I agree. “Not for a long time.”
His eyes study me for a moment, something thoughtful in his expression. “Duck tells me you’re okay with us hosting this meeting.”
“Devil explained this happens occasionally. I understand.”
“It does. Though we try to keep the imposition to a minimum.” His gaze is piercing when it meets mine. “Just understand that what we discuss here stays here.”
“I’ve always been good at keeping secrets,” I tell him, meeting his stare steadily. The unspoken reference to all those nights I spent covering for his daughter, and all the times he’d pretended not to notice me sneaking out of their house at dawn, hangs between us.
His lips twitch as if he’s amused. “That you have. Let’s get started.”
We move to the back room, but before anyone sits, Axel pulls out a small device from his jacket pocket.
“Standard procedure,” he explains, seeing my questioning look. “Just checking for bugs.”
He sweeps the room methodically, the device making occasional beeps as he passes it over light fixtures, under tables, and around the edges of the room. When he’s done, he nods to Stone.
“Clean.”
I linger by the door. “Need anything else from me?”
Stone exchanges a glance with Duck, then shakes his head. “We’re good, Kya. Thanks.”
The dismissal is clear. I nod, backing out of the room and pulling the door closed behind me. I stand there for a moment, listening to the low murmur of voices starting up on the other side.
Part of me knows I should respect their privacy. But another part—the part that grew up in this town, that understands the consequences of ignorance—can’t just walk away. Not when it sounds like something big is happening.
I head to the storeroom next door, stepping carefully around boxes of liquor and paper goods. While cleaning this beast of abuilding, I’ve begun to leave its the quirks. Which is how I found the small gap in the shared wall where a pipe had once run through. It’s been patched on the meeting room side, but if you know where to look, you can still hear through it. Not to mention the small peep hole beside it.
I had no doubt Devil knew all about this—and listened in regularly on anyone using the room. Cheeky bugger.
