CHAPTER FOUR
Louana
I put on a good show.
I’d actually practiced my cool, confident, indifferent look in front of the mirror until I was sure it hid any of the other shit that I had beneath it.
Vengeance and bitterness and anger and uncertainty and even a healthy dose of insecurity and fear.
Those were not things I could let any of them at the clubhouse see. First, because I was prospecting. And any weaknesses could and would be used against me. That was just the nature of the beast. Second, because I didn’t want Valen to see anything but indifference and maybe a little dark joy from me.
I wanted him sweating and on his toes, wondering what my next move would be, what I might have up my sleeve.
I’d been to the clubhouse a few times as a kid, but the Henchmen crew was only a distant part of my life, mostly because of my friendships with Layna and Vi, since both their fathers were in the club.
That said, it felt strange being there, all surrounded by guys who I knew, but not really, and some actual strangers, all of whom I was going to pledge to be around for weeks or months until, eventually, I went ahead and dropped out of the running before any patches were handed out.
It was Fallon who came in last, his blue eyes moving over me, and a smirk toying with his lips immediately. Because a guy like Fallon, one with a sister like his, he could guess what was up my sleeve. And he clearly enjoyed it.
I was just starting to talk to him when I heard the other bike rolling up.
It was more than just having Finn and Seth say he was on his way that had me sure it was him.
I swear I just… felt it.
And I was not woo-woo like that. I didn’t believe in any sort of soul mates or order to the universe. But I swear I felt him down to my bones as the bike pulled in, cut off, then as the footsteps got closer to the door.
Then, there he was.
I damn near fled out of the back door before he saw me. That was how affected I felt at seeing him.
Time had aged up all the Henchmen kids. They were all their own sort of handsome.
But Valen?
Valen had aged the best, in my humble opinion.
He’d always been tall, but now he had the bulk that came with age, with working out or doing some sort of manual labor. All those defined, impressive muscles underneath his tight tee.
His face had always been stupidly handsome, but the years had hollowed out his cheekbones, had make his jaw stronger, and his brow firmer.
We weren’t even going to talk about the damn tattoos that snaked up his arms and neck.
Or the fact that I was a complete sucker for ink.
He had the same dark hair, the same gorgeous eyes.
I kind of hated that.
Some petty, vengeful side of me had hoped he’d somehow gotten uglier. Lost too much weight or most of his hair. Something. Anything.
Making him even more attractive was just a cruel twist of fate.
At least I was pretty sure he missed my surprise at his appearance because he was so shocked by my presence.
Though as his gaze moved over me, I couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of insecurity, wondering for perhaps the first time if the years had been as kind to me as they had been to him.
I generally was okay with what I saw reflected in the mirror. But it had been a long time since I compared my present self to the girl that Valen had known.