“Viper, are we going to have a problem here?”
“Train, Rider, let her go.” Viper ordered.
When they angrily stepped away, Killyama took Sasha’s shaking arm, dodging the impassive look Shade gave her. He was the only one guarding his expression as she led her fugitive toward the door where Viper opened it for them, yet forced Killyama to stop when he didn’t move.
“I’m letting you take her because The Last Riders keep their word. We’re even now. I don’t want to see you in this clubhouse ever again. You got me?”
She refused to show how his words had deeply affected her. “No reason to come back. I got what I came for. I’ll get paid for taking Sasha back to Ohio, and sex with Train was just an added bonus.”
Train had moved so she would have to brush past him when she went out the door. And when she did, he flinched as if she had contaminated him.
“You fucking bitch. You had this planned all along, didn’t you?”
“Nothing gets past you, does it, lover?” Mockery might not have been the best choice when a man had been betrayed, but she never did anything half-assed.
Train sprung toward her, but Shade caught him around his waist, pulling him back before Hammer or Jonas could.
“Cool it. We’ll get Sasha back.”
“Yes, we will,” Train snarled. “Don’t worry, Sasha; I’ll keep your spot in my bed warm until you get back.”
His hate-filled tone had been directed toward her, and it struck like a hot poker to the heart. She made sure not to look around as she went out the door, afraid one of the intuitive men would see the hurt she tried to hide.
Knowing the club watched as they loaded Sasha into their vehicle, Killyama climbed into the backseat, sitting next to Sasha and never looking back at the clubhouse.
As Hammer pulled out of the parking lot, the only sound that could be heard was the cries of the woman sitting next to her.
“Quit crying,” she snapped. “It’s not like you’re going to the electric chair. You stole a couple of necklaces; you didn’t kill the fucker.”
“I didn’t steal anything,” she sobbed out. “Kane gave me one necklace, not two. He lied about that and the rest of the jewelry he claimed I stole.”
“Listen, I don’t care if you’re guilty or innocent. I leave that to twelve people to decide.”
“They are going to lock me away for years. I’m innocent, and you don’t care?” She sniffed her tears back.
“Nope.” She turned to stare out the back window, expecting to see some of The Last Riders following. So far, the road behind them was empty.
“What kind of person are you?”
Killyama shot her a glare. “One who works hard for her money.”
“Are you saying I don’t?”
“Bitch, what do I have to do to get it through your thick head that I do not care about anything to do with you? Not the charges brought against you, nor anything else concerning you, except the check I will get for bringing you to Ohio.”
“I feel sorry for you.”
“Feel sorry for yourself.” Killyama could stand a lot of things, but pity wasn’t one of them. “I’m not the one who hooked up with a loser who was sick of you banging a clubhouse full of men and pressed charges against you for stealing.”
While it didn’t make Sasha stop crying, that comment shut her mouth.
“Well, that was interesting,” Jonas remarked when they crossed the city line and entered the neighboring county. Finally relaxing, he reached for his coffee cup, and then handed her one.
“Thanks for the backup,” she said caustically. “Were you waiting for Train to punch me?”
“Did you see Shade?” Jonas mimicked Shade’s motions. “It was like watching a master at work.”
“Wow. I see where I am on the scale of importance to you fuckwads.”
“Be real. Hammer or I would have stepped in if we thought he would have hurt you. He might have shaken you, but you would have crushed his nuts if he had.”
“Train wouldn’t have touched you. He’s the sweetest man I know,” Sasha said.
Killyama should have known she wouldn’t stay quiet for long.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“You shouldn’t have to. I heard you in his room all last night. Any woman who spends any time with him knows how considerate and gentle he is. Train’s my favorite. Well, him and Rider are pretty good, so it’s hard to pick.”
Killyama slouched down in her seat. “Jonas, shoot me.”
“Why, already regretting that Train won’t be inviting you over for any more sleepovers?”
“I don’t regret a damn thing. Why would I care? Train’s not keeping a spot warm for me,” she snapped.
When Sasha nodded, Killyama wanted to punch her in the face.
“No, he won’t, and you’ll be missing out. He’s the type to go downstairs and fix you something to eat when you’re hungry, buy your favorite body wash, and when you’re on your period, he rubs your belly.”