When the living room was spotless, I tackled the kitchen. After an hour, Colt and his brothers walked into the clubhouse. They looked around the living room and into the open kitchen, their faces shifting from subdued to confused.
“It’s clean in here,” Reap said. “It wasn’t clean when we left.”
“I needed something to do,” I said with a shrug.
“And now you’re cooking?” Boxer asked, his face slack in amazement.
“Bacon and fried eggs. Is that okay with everyone? It’s all I can really manage with my wrist.”
There was a round of nods and murmurs.
Boxer looked at Colt. “If you don’t officially make her your Old Lady, I call dibs.”
Colt glared at him.
Boxer held up his hands. “Never mind. I don’t want to get my ass pistol whipped.”
The oven timer dinged and I removed the bacon. Before long, everyone had a plate and they were devouring their food.
“Have you eaten yet?” Colt asked me, his hand reaching out to push a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Just coffee. I’m not hungry.”
His hand slid down my body to rest on my hip. “You’re too thin as it is.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Too thin? I thought men liked thin.”
Colt leaned in and said, “Men like tits and ass.”
“You wouldn’t be trying to distract me from the Richie thing, would you?”
“Is it working?”
I picked up my cup of coffee and didn’t answer. I didn’t want to know what they’d done with him or how they were handling it.
His brown gaze was steady. “Let’s go for a drive.”
Thanks were called out as Colt and I left. I stepped out into the sunshine. I looked around, expecting to find danger at my back, but there was nothing except the clubhouse on a stretch of wide-open land.
Colt opened the passenger door of his truck for me and I scrambled inside. He shut the door and then went around to the driver’s side. He started the engine and then we were driving through the open gate, past the guarding prospects who were now awake and on duty.
“Give it to me straight, Colt,” I said, looking out the window.
“Sure you can handle it?”
“No.”
He was quiet and then, “You saw the burns on Richie’s chest, yeah? It was the Iron Horsemen logo.”
A surge of bile swam in my belly. “He was tortured—before they killed him?”
“Yes,” he said with a sigh. “And they dumped him on Blue Angel territory. It’s a message for us…and for you.”
“So they know, then? Dev knows I came to you?
“He knows,” he said. “Your truck has been parked at the Blue Angels garage for the past week.”
“You lied to me this whole time? You told me it was still at my house…”