Page 22 of Hallow’s Eve
Hallow crossed his arms. “Nope.”
Riff asked me, “Did you file a police report?”
“No.”
“Hmm. That’s curious.” Riff tapped his finger on his chin.
“I was tired. Why are you asking me all these questions? You think I killed Grady?” I laughed. “That’s crazy.”
Riff sat way back and shook his head to free his thick hair from his neck. “As unlikely as it seems, your family history is mighty interesting.”
“Who told you about that?”
“About your father? Your friend in the red says your dad spent some time in the nuthouse, and when he got out your mom was hacked to bits and thrown in the river.”
Hearing it told like that made my stomach turn. Fucking Donette. How could she? I jutted my chin out trying not to cry.
“And that’s not all she told me about him.”
Figured. Taking a deep breath, I bleated out, “He didn’t kill her. And what does it have to do with me?”
“Nuts don’t fall too far from the tree. Hallow, you check her for tattoos?”
“She’s clean,” Hallow answered, and I never felt dirtier.
Hallow hadn’t just been getting it on with me, he’d been searching my body. “I didn’t kill Grady, I swear,” I insisted.
Riff leaned in, “How did you hurt your hand?”
“Slicing limes.”
Riff stood up. “With this knife?” He asked, slamming a knife on the table in front of me like it was the big reveal.
Jumping back, I could only assume the bloody knife came from Grady’s murder. The fact Grady had actually been murdered sank to the pit of my stomach and made me tear up again. I wiped at my leaky eye and took a breath. Hallow’s hand returned to my shoulder but not to hold me down. His caress was meant to comfort me. Composing myself I answered Riff, “Maybe. All of our knives look the same. There’s an identical one in Earl over there.”
Riff put his cigarette out on the side of the table. “We’re done here. Hallow, you comin’ home?”
“In a minute.”
The bikers left Hallow and me alone. He took the seat in front of me.
Where would I begin? Angry, I had so many questions for Hallow. “You think I killed Grady?”
“No.” His face contorting backed him up.
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
“Riff’s just fucking with you. Fucking with me too. I might as well be probate. I’m a transfer.”
His words meant nothing to me. Juddering, I held out my hands.
“I’m new. Transferred from another chapter of this club. I’ve got to watch my step. Riff’s Road Captain, and I’m a peon.”
“You’re a biker. A Royal Bastard.” Bastard was right. “Why didn’t you tell me? Is it true?” I didn’t finish, but I’d been talking about what his friend said, that he’d been here last night. That he’d seen me.
Hallow narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, you told me you didn’t date nasty bikers, remember?”
I gasped. Hallow was the biker I bumped into last night. He’d trimmed his thick beard. Too many thoughts entered my head at once. Feelings of betrayal and mistrust overcame me. “That was your girlfriend who about attacked me?”
