Page 124 of 23 Hours

“She drank it,” I guess.

“Yes. She drank all of it and was happy to do so.”

“And you gave her your normal amount?” I glance over my shoulder at Gypsy, who corroborates Mickey’s story with a slow, solitary nod.

Eyes buggin’ out of his skull, my naked brother’s head bobs the affirmative. “The same drug I always give ‘em. Same amount. Same everything.”

“Then how did she die?”

“She was breathin’ when I took her.” Mickey points to the blue tie on the floor. “I used that on her wrists. Gypsy was there for all of it. He watched me. He saw she was alive. After I came, I cleaned everyone up. Like I always do. I untied her. Then I went and found her friend she’d left with Viper. They were done, so she came back here to be with her friend ‘til she woke up.”

“And, where were you?” I ask.

“Here. With everyone else. We let ‘em have the bed. Me and Gypsy took the couch.” Mickey jerks his chin at the blue sofa covered in blankets and pillows, beneath the only window in their room.

“Then what?”

“We all went to sleep, and she never woke up,” he explains.

“They took drugs before comin’ here last night,” our VP calls from the hall.

Ah. That makes far more sense. “She probably OD’d, Mick. That’s not on you.”

Expelling a pent-up breath, Mickey’s shoulders deflate in relief as he turns to face his best friend. Gypsy opens his arms and Mickey comes in for a long, far too intimate hug for me to bear witness to. I give them my back to do whatever works for them.

“You know who to call,” I yell to Kai, referencing the person who’s gotta come, pick up, and then dispose of the body in whatever manner necessary for her family to get closure, but so nothing can lead back to the Sacred Sinners. The only actual issue is the friend. The club whore who could talk. Will talk. She’s worked up. That’s what they do. Then comes the cops breathing down our necks. All of it’s such an ugly thing. Dealing with war and then this, seven days before I marry Kit.

“Already done,” Kai responds.

Good man. Kai’s come a long fuckin’ way. Stepped up and took charge.

Knowin’ Kai and I gotta have a sit down with Big to discuss how we wanna handle this new club whore predicament, I exit Mickey and Gypsy’s room, and go straight to church, to get this meeting over with. ’Cause I’ve got more pressing matters to handle, like feeding my woman my cock, among other things.

CHAPTERFORTY

KIT

An awfully sexy man straddles an equally sexy piece of steel in front of our house. Booted feet on the ground, he revs the engine. “Come on, love. Let’s go for a ride.” He smiles, revving a second time for show.

Standing on our porch, arms tucked over my chest, my head cocks to the side. “I didn’t think that was allowed.” Thewe’re at war and don’t wanna dieis left unspoken.

The hot biker double taps theSergeant-at-Armspatch on his chest as if that somehow negates the rules. As if he’s above club law. What do I know? He might be.

Gunz thumbs to the back of his bike and the seat there just for me. I glance down at my clothes—jeans, t-shirt, no shoes. The norm as of late. I spent half the morning working in the compound’s shared garden. Soiled knees aren’t exactly all the rage.

Flicking my eyes to him, then my bare toes, I wiggle the pink polished things for emphasis. What does the man do? Smiles wider. Full teeth, shining between a thick, graying beard. He fusses around with his saddlebag and produces a pair of women’s black leather boots out of thin air, like Mary Poppins’s bag of wonders. Laces tied together, he drapes them over his handlebar, wearing the smuggest expression I’ve seen in ages.

“Thosefor me?” I clasp my hands together at my breasts and pretend to swoon like a damsel in a fairytale.

Playing right along, Gunz puffs his chest out. “You’ll have to put ‘em on and see.” He winks, ever the flirt.

Knowing I can’t try anything on without socks, I gesture to the front door. “I’ll grab—”

Before the words can leave my mouth, that damn man produces a pair of black crew socks from his Mary Poppin’s bag and drapes them over the bootlaces.

“Are there any other surprises you’d like to share from that bag, babe?” I double-check because it seems someone’s come prepared for whatever it is he has up that sleeve.

“Not yet. Now put ‘em on, so we can blow this popsicle stand.”

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