At any given time, the Rolling Stones have more than one prospect. It has always been that way. But right now, Gabe appears to be the closest to earning an official patch. It would make sense for Gabe to be the one sitting in that day, even if only for just enough time to somehow possibly get access to the coveted assignments folder.
Stoney could have put Gabe up to it. Prospects will do anything to earn their spot. Even though I need to treat everyone like a suspect, my heart wants Stoney to somehow be to blame because I hate the idea of any of the Hell for Leather men betraying me.
Unfortunately, although Bae was definitely part of the group of Hell for Leather men who stormed the office that afternoon, no matter how many scenarios I play out in my mind, I still cannot connect any possibility that somehow the folder was tampered with during that brief moment.
For the next few hours or so, my thoughts bounce between the crime scene and the amazing shops Chaz and Bae swing into. They stop by every booth that reminds them of me. Jess comes and goes between scheduled endo stints. Zane is the bag boy. And such a cute bag boy he is, holding my heels under one arm and an ever-increasing amount of shopping bags on the wrist and fingers of the other.
Watching them all split everything at the end of the day in order to share the responsibility of carrying them on their bikes back to the condo ought to be a blast.
Dare I say, for a brief moment in this expansive existence, I tap into a drop of happiness, but only when being distracted and doted on.
If not for living in my wagon by choice, I would have a houseful of trinkets and valuables. Cash is not the only thing customers tip with, especially when becoming their favorite saloon girl. Jess and I have been favorites to many, and as a result, the recipients of electronic devices, clothes, gift cards, and so much more.
I usually just post things on the local online marketplace unless it might be useful for me while traveling. Otherwise, all that junk will only get in my way. The money is more important, because after working my soul to the bone, I plan on retiring for a while.
A new holistic vendor catches my attention, and all the static in my brain goes silent. I get absolutely giddy. Candles. Incense. Singing bowls. Beautiful tapestries with celestial imagery. There is one with a mermaid holding her cupped hands up toward the full moon. I gasp. Chaz throws money at the rep, and we once again move on.
He likely expects me to drape it on the bed I will sleep in tonight, whoever’s that might be, but I am very much envisioning how cute it will look in my wagon with the sparkly lights and my throw pillows that I swear are the same color scheme, if not close.
Of course, that thought zaps the happiness right back out of me just as quickly as it came as a reminder that I may be stuck in this rut forever instead of traveling from sea to sea.
After the holistic shop, Kio emerges from the shadows, passes Jess and me, and jerks his head at her, indicating he would like the two of them to walk together. She hesitantly jogs forward, glancing at me over her shoulder for approval. No telling what Kio has up his sleeve, I shrug. She goes regardless, because refusal tends to be looked down upon in this circle.
Jess and Kio walk ahead, and he motions to place his hand at her lower back but stops and hovers it there for a split second before shoving his hand into his pocket and stepping closer so that the side of his body nearly touches her instead.
Kio dips his head down and whispers something to her. Jess looks up at him and, for the first time today, a small smile lifts her lips, her eyes twinkling slightly. The hand Kio had stuffed into his black cargo pocket clenches slightly, but his expression is quite the juxtaposition; he smiles back and herds her toward a nearby vendor with the slight veer of his body. Trained the way she is, her body veers that way subconsciously until they come to a stop at his booth of choice: a custom knife shop.
My lips press together to repress a smile of my own. Knives. So Kio. Such a romantic.
Jess reaches her hand out and drags a finger down one of the blades. Kio points out a different, smaller one. He picks the knife up, spins it between his fingers, and perfectly places it in an aggressive stance grip, ready for striking, at the end of the final twirl before abruptly touching the tip to the center of the back of her hand that is resting on the table where the knife had been.
Jess understandably tenses. Unbothered, Kio flips her hand over, places the handle in her palm, and closes her fingers over it. She looks up at him, blinks rapidly, and minutely shakes her head.
An instant mistake.
His striking and slanted bone structure becomes even more pronounced as he narrows her with a glare and his mouth moves tightly. I know Kio well enough to know he is likely telling her she has no choice. He then gathers up a couple other items — a small sheath and band for the thin knife to be hidden somewhere on her body at all times.
Chaz, Bae, and Zane keep a sharp lookout around us while Kio drops to his knee in front of Jess, folds down the top cuff of her leather thigh-high costume boots, careful not to make any skin on skin contact with each step he takes to wrap the small strap and sheath at the garter part of her thigh and slip the knife inside before unfolding the boot cuff to conceal completely it.
Kio is the enforcer for a reason — the most perceptive of the club, which is saying a lot since they are all quite perceptive. But the point of the matter is that Kio is taking care of my girl while still enforcing the club rules by not touching her.
My heart melts, but it breaks even more. If he wants to be with Jess, I wish he just could without my stupid contract dictating his life, too. Add that reason to the list of many as to why I need to hurry up and get to the bottom of this mystery. That and the fact that right along with the waning sun, my time wanes as well.
Kio has been way more high-strung than usual this rally. I mean, all of the men have, but Kio is getting stupid. I do like that he armed Jess with some sort of protection, and I understand why he did, but Gabe catching her with something like that will make any repercussions all the more volatile, and that truly frightens me.
What frightens me even more, though, is the sudden desperate need to figure out a reason to strike Kio off my list of potential perps. Most sleuths probably work toward finding the guilty party, not the other way around, but this is the only way my heart can handle the process.
I desperately need to know who is safe.
Who I can count on.
Which of these men I opened my heart to deserves to keep it.
Which ones won’t demolish my heart.
Which ones I won’t have to cut ties from forever after all this is said and done and Reece is safe again.
Kal, Bae, and Zane are on my hopeful safe list, and after giving it a lot of thought, I decide Vee is, too; there was true fear and confusion in his bright, blue eyes as he pointed the loaded gun at my father. That leaves Chaz, Brodi, and Coty to still consider… and of course Kio, too.