CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
*Lace*
Damn what a day. And the night is still young. I am really looking forward to this ride. Really, really.
Kio, Brodi, and Chaz are all gearing up. Chaz has already slipped his arms back into the top part of his suit and is now adjusting the gaiter over his head to keep his long hair contained. Kio and Brodi never completely divested. They had taken off their helmets and gloves and rested their gaiters in a neutral position, loose around their necks but kept their jackets on and zipped.
I lift my helmet in the air and whistle, getting their attention. “Imma head outside.” Every member turns their attention toward me. “But, um… give me five… please?”
I grimace and curve my eyebrows in pleadingly.
Just five minutes alone.
Please.
Brodi and Chaz check with Kio who then checks with Kal. I manage to refrain from grinding my teeth. Just barely. Then my three riding companions nod their agreement in unison. I hop on my toes in thanks before spinning around and dashing out the back exit.
As soon as my sneakers hit the asphalt, I throw my head back, stare up at the stars, and take an incredibly deep breath. After the nice and slow exhale, I afford myself a couple extra seconds of silence before digging my phone out of my pocket and dialing up Jess.
The call rings way too many times. “What the fuck do you want?” A harsh, male voice answers, sneering.
“Hey, Gabe. Just checking in on my girl. I have a super important question to ask her.” Feigning patience is much too easy for me to do. Thankfully, it works.
“Hey, Lace.” Jess’s sweet country twang hums over the line, echoing from being on the loudspeaker. Gabe made damn sure he could hear her entire conversation.
“Life or death situation here that I need your help with.”
“Here for you, girl.” She laughs weakly.
Goosebumps, the uncomfortable type, track down my spine. “I am about to order a pizza from next door and am trying to decide if I should add pineapple this time. Been feeling extra adventurous lately again, you know?”
She gives me a tired chuckle and says, “I dunno… maybe you should. That way you can experience just how damn nasty they are.”
My heart drops to my toes and disappears right into the earth. I scramble figuring out how to respond. She always says that pineapple should never go on pizza. That everything is fine. That she is okay.
Panic rising, I grasp wildly. “Maybe we can try it together this time?” I attempt delivering the suggestion with all the confidence in the ocean, but it comes out as a pathetic leak.
“Not tonight, shug,” she says. “I already ate.”
And with those three words, she guts me. I swallow past the hard, watery lump in my throat, wishing I could yell, “How can I help?!” at the top of my lungs.
But the line goes dead.
The back door to Tit for Tat Saloon opens, and I hastily swat at the rogue tear that dripped past my lashes before looking over my shoulder at the three men who stepped out to take me on a joyride.
Chaz and Brodi don confident, exuberant smiles and rush past me toward their bikes. Kio is watchful and ready, as always. My effort to cover up the slip does not escape his notice. His dark eyes narrow and jaw ticks.
There is no way he knows what my glassy eyes truly mean, but he knows they mean something, and that twisted darkness effervesces in his gaze. His mouth parts minusculely, words teasing to escape, but they close as quickly.
In classic Kio fashion, he chooses to not say anything at all. I equally love and hate that tactic.
Well, hate is a strong word, more like… worry. Whenever he pulls this stunt, an anxiousness courses through me. Kio has that way about him.
I turn around and give them all a winning smile. Lifting my helmet, I toss my head back and shake the hair out of my eyes before fitting it over my head and bouncing my eyebrows through the open visor.
Kio, taking his very enforcer-like role, approaches me until my shoulder is a whisper away from his upper arm, then he lowers his voice and says, “Bro is not permitted to ride wide open throttle with you riding pillion.” He takes another step but stops again, the back of my shoulder now grazing him. “I will figure out what is wrong. Either you can tell me or I can find out on my own. The latter generally has worse consequences.”
Oh, but in this case I know with a certainty that the consequences will be the same. Rough, bloody, permanent.