But, I dunno, I could damn sure get used to just fucking Morgaine.
We didn’t finish the trail after that.
We found ourselves pretty fucking hungry, so we went to eat, then headed back to her place so she could fuss over the chickens, and we could haul water.
All in all, I spent almost three full days there before Slash was demanding I bring the SUV back so they could send Coach grocery shopping.
“You’re being weird,” she informed me, brows drawing together. “I’m going to be fine,” she added when I’d mentioned feeling weird about leaving her out at her homestead all alone. “I’ve lived alone out here for a long time,” she reminded me.
“I know,” I agreed, but there was just… a feeling I couldn’t shake.
I chalked it up to her belonging to me now, and some innate protectiveness because of that rearing its head.
Then I kissed her like I wouldn’t see her for a week, when I planned to head back over later that night, and made my way toward the clubhouse.
“Have fun?” Slash asked as a greeting as he made his way past me and into the kitchen for some coffee.
“I can’t believe it,” Sway said, pressing a hand to his chest. “My best wingman… settling down. I’m personally offended that you didn’t think of what you’re doing to me with this decision,” he added, eyes dancing.
“You got Coach now. Definitely much more desperate for pussy than I have been,” I reminded him.
“That bastard,” Sway said, making me stiffen and look over toward Slash, wondering what had gone wrong. But he just shook his head.
“What’d he do?”
“Started spouting off about Plato, and Locke, and Niet…neet…”
“Knee-Chuh,” Coach’s voice said, sounding it out as he walked into the common area. “Nietzsche.”
“Yeah. The fucker whose name would win every game of Scrabble ever,” Sway said, rolling his eyes. “And talking to the chicks about yoga breathing—“
“Pranayama,” Coach interjected.
“Yeah, that. He kept talking about that shit and all the panties practically melted,” Sway said, shaking his head.
“You still managed to bring two home,” Coach reminded him as he ripped the page off of the pad that was full of the grocery list. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, eager to leave.
I imagined I would be too if I spent the last few years in prison. Even running errands was a freeing experience for him.
“Got any news?” I asked Slash.
“Riff and Raff will be heading back up in another day or so.”
“Already?” I asked.
“Yeah. They managed to track down one of the guns our specialty clients has been looking for for the past few years. It will be a good payout. Good enough not to have to make them stack the car with weapons,” he added. “They can come hang for a week or so this time.”
“That’ll be good for the club,” I said. It was important for brotherhood to spend time together. Especially as we kept expanding. Coach needed to meet everyone.
“Will your girl be here in the near future?” he asked.
“About that,” I said, watching as Slash let out a deep sigh.
“Here we go,” he said.
“No. It’s just… I’ve kept some shit from you and it’s time to come clean.”
“Alright,” he said, tone even, but his jaw had gotten tight.
“So, I was poisoned.”
“I remember.”
“And I spent a week or so looking into that shit.”
“Figured you did.”
“Well, it led me to a woman.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Crow. You’re dating your poisoner?” he asked.
He’d always been quick.
“That sums it up. Roughly. I went to confront her one day…”
“And she was hot.”
“No. I mean, yes. But it wasn’t exactly the start of something right then. I ran across her in town one night, following behind that guy from the bar.”
“She’s looking to finish the job?”
“Turns out, he deserves it,” I said, shrugging. “That’s the thing with Morgaine,” I added. “That’s her name, Morgaine.”
“Gathered that. What’s her thing? Killing guys?”
“Yes. I mean, no, but also yes. She sort of does a community service in taking out some real shitheads.”
“With poison?”
“Yeah. And for a small profit.”
“So… your girl is a contract killer?” he asked, brow raising. His gaze slid away for a moment then back, nodding. “Yeah. That shakes out,” he decided.
“She doesn’t want that to be public knowledge.”
“No shit,” he said, and I knew him well enough to know that was his way of agreeing not to say anything. “That’s it?”
“Also, she lives in a tiny house over by the mountains, completely off-grid. And illegally.”
“You can really pick ‘em, huh?” he asked.
“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a rough life,” I told him, giving hime enough to understand without betraying Morgaine’s trust.
“Must’ve,” he agreed.
“So, yeah. She almost never leaves her homestead. Doesn’t have any friends. Well, except maybe Nyx.”
“Nyx?” Slash asked, stiffening.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Nothing,” he said, trying to shake away some thought, but the look on his face said he wasn’t really managing that.