Wearily, he shoved the pillow under his head when she rolled over. Train expected her to scoot over more like she usually did, but she placed a thigh over his instead. He didn’t touch her, though.
She lived in her own self-imposed exile, briefly leaving it when she was with her friends, her mother, or when she was having sex with him; returning to her solitary existence when someone grew too close, wanting more than she was willing to give.
Killyama used her lies as a barrier between them. He kept trying to find a way around it, but she just built it taller and wider. Train was terrified he wouldn’t be able to reach her in time to keep her from enclosing herself without a chance of escape.
31
“What are you lazy fuckers sitting around for?” Killyama stomped up her mother’s porch where Hammer and Jonas were waiting. “You were supposed to pick me up an hour ago. We’re wasting time. We should be halfway to Knoxville by now.” Seeing the men’s steely gazes staring back at her, her tone went from criticizing to concern. “Is something wrong with Mama? Is that why you texted me to meet you here?” She started to run inside the trailer.
“Peyton’s fine.” Jonas’s words stopped her in her tracks. “We need to talk.”
“Where’s Mama?”
“She’s making us lunch.”
Killyama stared at Jonas’s poignant face, while Hammer turned toward the road, so she couldn’t see his. For a badass, she could read him like a book.
She braced herself. If neither of them wanted to be the one tell her, whatever it was had to be bad.
“Just spit it out. If it has something to do with Mama—”
“It’s not about Peyton; it’s about The Last Riders.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to hear it.” She took a step down from the porch. “I don’t care what Train’s done. I don’t even give a fuck who he killed. And if The Last Riders have done something criminal, I don’t even care—”
“Rae, listen to me.” Jonas put his hands on her shoulders.
“I don’t want to. Please, Jonas.”
“They bugged your phone.”
She tried to shrug out of Jonas’s grip. “Train’s just worried about me. We knew he was watching when we went on a hunt.”
“It’s more than that, Rae. Listen to me—”
“No! I can’t, Jonas. I can’t lose him …” It was the closest she had ever come to cry in front of them since she had been a child.
“Leave her alone, Jonas. We can deal with this ourselves.”
It took Hammer’s gruff statement to show how bad it really was.
She wanted to sink down on the steps to lessen the impact of what they were about to reveal. Instead, she turned to face them. Jonas was the one who always tried to shield her, Hammer would get angry at him, and tell them that what she didn’t know could get her killed. That was why he had put hours of work developing her skills.
“Tell me.”
“I need my computer. I left it in the Escalade.”
As they walked the distance to the vehicle, no one said a word. It made Killyama feel like she was being led to her execution.
Hammer held the back door open for her. “I meant what I said, Jonas and I have this.”
Killyama rested her hand on the door, pausing. “Can you or Jonas get hurt if I don’t help?”
“Yes.”
“Then there’s your answer.” She jumped inside Hammer’s SUV, hearing the door close behind her.
What her and Train had going these last few months would have ended sooner or later. Jonas and Hammer had always been the ones who had been there when she needed them. Her friends were like sisters to her, but she looked over them more than they did her. Even her mama had lost herself for a few years until she could find her way back to her. Jonas and Hammer hadn’t, not ever. They were a team, and a team stuck together, even though one’s heart was about to break.
Jonas and Hammer got in the front seat, setting the laptop on top of the console so she could watch the video.
“Ready?” Jonas’s silver eyes met hers.
“Shut up and press play.”
“What are you doing tonight?”
Train tossed his soda can into the trash. He hated Curt Dawkins, who was staring at him as he sucked smoke into his lungs that wouldn’t be working for him much longer. If the cigarettes didn’t kill him, The Last Riders would.
“Rider, Moon, and I are going to grab a beer at Rosie’s after work. Wanna go?” Curt continued after he took another draw, pulling his jeans up that had slipped down with every puff he took. Train didn’t know why the disgusting shit made the effort. His beer gut would just have it slipping down again.
“No, thanks. I’m busy. I need to get back to work. I don’t want Jewell docking my pay if I don’t clock back in after break.”