Page 27 of The Belle and the Biker

"Duly noted."

I gather up my bags and make it back to my car without any further drama, although I do get some side-eye from people strolling down the street. This is Swampy Bottom County, and gossip is their soap opera.

When I get home with all my loot, Great-Aunt Hepzibah is talking on the phone in the parlor. "Yes, she just pulled in; of course, she's all right."

I roll my eyes. Could my mother act like a normal human being and call me herself?

"Do tell my mother I say hey," I call out as I head to my room to put my new clothes away.

"As usual, I have no idea what you're talking about," my aunt yells after me.

CHAPTER10

Crash

Savannah’s been gonefor three days. We’ve made exactly zero progress in finding out who the shooter is. Our cop sources haven’t turned up jack, and the case is going cold. New York City averages around 250 to 300 murders a year, and unless it’s a high-profile case, it will fall off the radar pretty quickly.

I’m sitting on a barstool at Bone-breakers, six beers in, and not in the mood for company. It shows on my face; I’ve got my “leave me the fuck alone” expression screwed on tight. That doesn’t stop Tawny from tapping me on the shoulder.

“Do you know where Axl is?”

“Not my night to watch him.” He called in sick, which is why I’m here when I’d rather be in my apartment, on my bike, or anywhere people are not.

“Well, you’re in a shitty mood.”

I shrug. “Good reason not to talk to me.”

Tawny’s in a mood too. She’s been arguing with Axl a lot lately. “You’re a real fucking douche; you know that? Dick. I don’t understand what Savannah even sees in you.”

That cuts through my bleary haze and gets my attention. “She sees a big, hairy sack of trash, as far as I can tell.” But I’m kind of fishing when I say that. Is that what she sees?

Tawny shakes her head slowly, looking at me with pity and annoyance. “I swear to God, Crash, if you were any dumber, you’d be twins.”

I squint at her through my beer haze. “You what, now?”

“Savannah says that. It’s one of her Southern-isms, and it means you’re really stupid.”

A sharp lance of pain stabs through me. “She says that about me?”

“No, in general! It’s an expression. She’s never said it about you, but she should.”

Across the bar, two bikers jump to their feet and start yelling. Glasses crash to the ground, and a chair is kicked over. Tawny twirls around, about to shoot across the room, and wade in. She’s spoiling for a fight.

I grab her by the arm. “What does Savannah say about me?”

Tawny hesitates. “I’ll tell you if you tell me who Axl’s sleeping with.”

“Axl? As far as I know, he’s sleeping with a crazy redhead named Tawny Roberts and nobody else.”

“Liar.” She yanks her arm from my grasp and storms off before I question her further. I watch her as she wades between the two bikers, ready to run to her rescue if she needs it, but the two guys settle down and back off. Tawny’s never needed my help in a fight yet.

“Excuse me,” a sugary voice trills. “Is this seat taken?”

Fucking seriously? I turn to glare at the woman who’s just recited the world’s most abused pickup line, and then I do a double take.

She looks nothing like the girls who hang out here. Her sleek hair is a pale shade of blonde that you only find in the kind of salons my stepmother uses. Her pink-and-black-checked wool jacket and skirt look like what a CEO would wear. Her black quilted purse hangs off a thick gold chain.

She mistakes my scrutiny for interest and smirks a little as she settles into the chair.

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