Page 10 of Sully
I nodded once.
“Must be special.Never seen you like this before.”
I barked out a laugh that held no humor.“Just met her the one time.Right here, about a week ago.”
Knight took a pull from his beer, wiping foam from his beard with the back of his hand.“Yet here you are.Every night.Watching that door like your life depends on it.”
I didn’t respond.Didn’t need to.We both knew he was right.
“Want to tell me about her?Might be able to help.”
I hesitated.Putting words to my fixation with Darby felt dangerous somehow, like naming a wild thing might give it more power than it already had.But if anyone could track her down, it would be Knight.
“Her name’s Darby,” I said finally, the word feeling strange on my tongue after days of only thinking it, never saying it aloud.“About five-three.Athletic build.Dark hair she wears in a braid.Small scar above her right eyebrow.”My fingers brushed against my wallet where her note still resided.“Smart.Knows how to work a room.Came in here last week and had half the bar ready to tear each other apart inside an hour.”
Knight’s eyebrows rose slightly.“Sounds like a real live mustang to me.Buck wild.”
“You have no idea,” I muttered, remembering the violence of our connection, the way we’d nearly destroyed that hotel room in our need for each other.
“Last name?”
I shook my head.“She didn’t offer.I had other things on my mind.”Like how her round, perfect ass filled out her jeans.
“Credit card?Phone number?License plate?”
I shrugged and gave him the hotel’s business card.“Stayed here.Can you” -- I twirled a finger in the air -- “computer shit the place?”
Knight barked out a laugh.“Computer shit.”
“Look, she and I didn’t exchange numbers.And I didn’t see her vehicle.”
Knight leaned back, considering.“Not much to go on.”
“I know.”
“But not nothing.”He took another drink of his beer.“I’m good at finding people who don’t want to be found.It’s what I do for the club.”
I knew this, of course.It was why I’d allowed this conversation to happen instead of telling him to mind his own fucking business.
“Why would you help me with this?”I asked, suspicious despite myself.I had only been with Kiss of Death a few months.I’d stumbled onto Darby pretty quickly after getting out of prison.In my experience, people rarely offered assistance without expecting something in return.Knuckles didn’t seem to run his outfit that way, but the jury was still out.
I hated that metaphor.
Knight shrugged one shoulder.“Been where you are.Obsessed with someone who left a mark.”His strange, tattooed eyes held mine.“You took your time inside without complaint.Dealt with your own shit without ratting.That earns you a favor in my book.Besides, anyone Knuckles lets into this club is on the up-and-up.That makes you family.We help our family.”
I considered his offer, turning my glass in slow circles on the table.Pride told me to handle this myself.Experience told me I was getting nowhere fast on my own.And I might be a shade too proud to admit how much I wanted the guys in Kiss of Death to be my family.Just like Knight described.
“All right,” I said finally.“But keep it quiet.Don’t want the whole club knowing my fuckin’ business.”I had to grumble or look like a pussy.It was in the guy code somewhere, I was sure.
Knight nodded once, his lips twitching in amusement.“You got it bad, brother.”
My hand tightened around my glass.“Just find her.If you can.”
He finished his beer and stood, his massive frame casting a shadow across our table.“I’ll see what I can dig up.Might take some time.”
I nodded, already turning my attention back to the door.Knight lingered a moment longer, and I felt his gaze on me, assessing.
“One more thing,” he said.“When I find her -- not if, when -- what are you planning to do?”
