What? For the last few hours while you’ve called and messaged her? Unlikely. Unless she’d passed out.
“Actually, I better go check. Where are the women’s toilets?” she asked the other woman.
The dark-haired woman looked up at her tattooed companion then over at Eden with disbelief. “Are you for real? This isn’t a bar you just wander into without protection.”
“Really? Is that a threat?” Eden asked with a bravado she certainly didn’t feel. Funny, she’d always thought she wouldn’t be scared of death. And yet, right now, all she wanted to do was get the hell out of here and go home. Where it was safe.
Where Zeke was.
Fuck. He had totally gotten to her.
“No, it’s not a threat,” the woman told her. “It’s the rules.”
“All I want to do is look for my friend. She works here.”
The guy looked around him. “You see your friend?”
She clenched her jaw tight. “No. Obviously not.”
“Then she don’t work here.” He made a gesture and two other men stepped out of the crowd. Fuck. She thought bikers were meant to be old and hairy. Not these guys. They were young and hot.
“Escort her out, make sure she leaves,” surfer-biker dude ordered. He glared down at her. “Don’t come back. Next time, I won’t be so nice.”
Well, fuck.
One of the assholes took hold of the handles of her chair. She glared up at the surfer-biker asshole. She expected him to look smug or angry, instead he seemed like he’d already dismissed her. In fact, he turned away, clearly expecting his orders to be obeyed.
Just like some freaking dictator. She wondered if he was the President of the Iron Shadows.
“Could you please just check the restroom? And then I’ll go.”
“Fucking hell,” the tattooed guy muttered. “Fucking fine. Jewel, go take a look in the women's restrooms, will ya?”
The other woman scowled. “All right.”
“Thank you. She’s about five-foot eight, red hair, pale skin. Her name is Keira Blackwood.”
Suddenly, it felt as though someone had sucked all the air from the room. The curious and mocking looks aimed her way turned more deadly. Anger filled Jewel’s face.
Suddenly, surfer-biker dude leaned over her, his face a savage mask, all hint of boredom gone.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
5
He had a murder to plan.
More than one, truth be told. Only if he killed her fucking brother, she might get pissed at him. So, he’d have to show restraint. Maybe he’d just torture him for a while, see how he fucking liked it. Because that’s what the asshole was doing to Zeke. Torturing him slowly.
How could he give Eden permission to leave the ranch? Clint was supposed to be in charge and he just let her go around doing whatever the fuck she liked. Didn’t he know how precious she was? How reckless? The woman had no regard for her safety whatsoever. She lived every day like it was going to be her last.
It. Had. To. Stop.
He didn’t care what he had to do. Who he had to go through. Eden Jensen would be his and she would damn well learn to value her own life. If he achieved nothing else in his life from here on out, he would be happy if he could just make her see her own worth.
If he could get her to stop taking chances with a life that belonged to him.
Okay, best you try to tame the possessive beast now.