Page 25 of Enemy
I wouldn’t spit on Grizzly if he was on fire, but Clyde… I’m feeling a bit selfish about him when I remember how he smiled at me.
He’smybone. I want to chew through him until I reach the marrow, and even after that, I’ll want to have him around.
This alone is betrayal, I know that.
Fuck.
“I think you’re underestimating their loyalty,” I say, averting my eyes when two parents help their young son off the fake castle in the playground. This place makes me feel weird, so I tend to avoid it.
Instead, we turn toward the two large barns that serve as garages. Several people work there, but I’ve got my favorite guy who knows how to handle my motorcycle. Isaac is a forty-something guy who joined our commune a few years back, and his passion for everything to do with cars and bikes shines through in his work.
“You’re just talking out of your ass,” Prophet grumbles. “Several of the Butchers never even met Gary Turner, so what do they care about the club founder?”
“Nothing,but they do know Grizzly and Clyde,” I mutter, pushing through the side entrance and into the garage. I’m hit by the scent of motor oil and gas. It would have been a relief if I didn’t want to be alone, because my thoughts keep gyrating back to Clyde’s eyes, mouth, his hard body under mine…
Isaac will serve as an excellent distraction, so I look around, from the enclosed space where one of the mechanics is repainting the van delivering supplies to the community kitchen, over to where Val, the lone female worker here is snacking on chips.
“You know what? We need to do some digging and find out who in their club actually—” Prophet has to bite his tongue when Isaac greets us with a smile, because this isn’t a conversation for civilians.
And good, because I don’t have the mind for it.
Just as I squeeze Isaac’s hand and ask about my bike, the phone in my pocket buzzes.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
My blood runs hotter, creating vapor inside my skull. How am I to think clearly, when it could be Clyde’s messages burning in my pocket?
I want to grab my phone, but Isaac’s talking to me. What is this about? I mean, I did come here about the bike—theoretically—but as my mind drifts off, to the world of my dreams, where Clyde is always waiting for me, ready to meet my gaze and offer me his body, I only hear every other word and end up staring at him with my mouth open.
The mechanic pulls up his T-shirt, revealing his tattooed abs, and wipes his handsome face with the hem. I used to eye him quite a lot, discreetly of course, but he has nothing on Clyde. Not to mention that attempting to flirt with someone from my own community is a definite no-go.
“Yes,” I say, because whatever I’ve been asked, there’s a fifty-percent chance of this being the right answer.
Isaac cocks his head. “Yes to which? Blue or red?”
Open questions should not be a thing.
“I’m… not good with that kind of shit. Ask one of the girls,” I say and step away when Prophet cuts in, because my phone just buzzed again, and I can wait no longer.
Prophet’s gaze trails to something farther in the garage and he says he’ll talk to me later.
My relief knows no bounds.
I step outside so I’m sure no one’s looking over my shoulder, and there it is. Messages from Clyde.
A pin dropped on a map.
[Here.]
[Come.]
[No knives needed…]
He could have just as well pulled on the leash around my neck. I chuckle as excitement bubbles up in my chest, to school my face back into its usual neutral expression when Val raises her eyebrows at me from the chair where she’s having her snack.
