Page 20 of Kash
A moment later, it opens, and Kash fills the doorway, his salt-and-pepper hair a mess, his dark eyes narrowing as he sees me.
“What the fuck, Spike?” Kash growls, keeping his voice low. “I told you not to come unless I say so.”
“Cops,” I say, stepping inside before he can stop me. The door shuts behind me, and I’m hit with the familiar smell of mildew and whiskey. “They’re talking about the bluff. Got a tip about suspicious activity. You need to move.”
Kash’s jaw tightens, and he moves to the window, peering through the blinds.
“How’d you hear this?” he asks, his voice sharp but not accusing.
“Skatepark,” I say, leaning against the wall, trying to play it cool even though my heart’s pounding. “Guys at the diner were talking about the reward again this morning. Five grand. That’s a lot of money around these parts. We don’t like snitches, but for that kind of dough, you’d be surprised how quickly people will turn. And I heard a police radio, saying they’re checking the bluff. They’re closing in, Kash.”
Kash curses under his breath, pacing the small room, his boots heavy on the creaky floor.
“Fuck. Someone’s talking. Probably that damn clerk at the store.” He stops, looking at me, his eyes searching. “You didn’t have to come here. You could’ve stayed out of this.”
“Yeah, well, I thought we already established I’m not good at staying out of things,” I say, flashing a grin, but it’s weaker than usual. The weight of this is hitting me—cops, rewards, aman on the run. “You gonna tell me what’s going on? The truth this time?”
Kash hesitates, his hand brushing the knife at his belt, a habit I’ve noticed when he’s stressed.
“You don’t need to know everything,” he says, but his voice is softer now, almost tired. “The less you know, the safer you are.”
“Bullshit,” I say, stepping closer, my defiance flaring. “I’m already in this, Kash. You think I’m gonna run because it’s dangerous? I’m not some kid you need to protect. Tell me something, at least.”
He looks at me, really looks at me, and for the first time, I see something crack in his armor.
“Fine,” he says, sinking onto the couch, his hands resting on his knees. “I didn’t kill that cop. The Vipers, a rival MC, set me up. Planted evidence, almost certainly paid off the someone in the police. I was…somewhere elsewhen it happened. Somewhere I can’t talk about without fucking myself worse.”
I nod, piecing it together.
“Somewhere like a heist?” I say, half-guessing, but his flinch tells me I’m right. “Jesus, Kash. That’s heavy.”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “And if I come clean, it’s thirty years in a cell. Probably longer. If I don’t, it’s a bullet. That’s why I’m here.Hiding. Waiting for my brothers to find something to clear me.”
I sit next to him, close enough that our thighs brush. “Your brothers. Your club men?”
He nods, his eyes distant. “They’re working on it. But it’s slow, and the Vipers don’t play fair. They want me gone, and they’ll take out anyone who gets in their way. Including you.”
The weight of that settles over me, but I don’t flinch. “I’m not going anywhere,” I say, my voice steady. “I told you, I’m in.”
Kash turns to me, his eyes softening, and for a moment, he’s not the gruff biker or the stern Daddy. He’s just Kash, a man carrying too much. I lean in, my hand resting on his thigh, and he doesn’t pull away.
“You’re too damn stubborn,” Kash mutters, but there’s a warmth in his voice, a crack in his walls.
“Part of my charm,” I say, grinning, and he chuckles, low and rough.
I want to kiss him, to close the distance, but I hold back, letting the moment stretch. It’s not just about the heat between us anymore. It’s about trust, about him letting me in.
But his rules are still there, hanging over us like a shadow.
“You gotta follow my orders, Spike,” Kash says, his voice firm again. “No more taking risks. You do what I say, or this ends.”
I roll my eyes, my defiance flaring.
“You and your rules,” I sigh. “You really think you can control me, Daddy?”
His eyes darken, that spark igniting again.
“Keep pushing, boy,” he says, his voice low, a warning and a promise. “You know what happens when you break my rules.”
