Colt (Devil's Nightmare MC #10) - Lena Bourne Page 0,5
not talking, just marching along like men on a mission all the way to the building the white van is parked in front of.
Brenda’s guy gets behind the wheel of the van, another guy opens the back and the rest enter the wooden-walled building, bright white light spilling out the open door.
Angry, arguing voices reach me, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.
There’s no need to eavesdrop since a couple of moments later Ace and a woman are led out, their hands tied behind their backs. They load them in the back of the van. Not good.
I only wait long enough for the bikes and van to roll past me before texting Blaze that they should follow the van, that Ace is inside, and it doesn’t look good.
I don’t think too hard about what to do next once the bikes and the van leave the lot. I sprint back to the courtyard, not caring who sees me, jump up on the trashcans, and over the wall.
My brothers are ready to follow the van, and I just nod at them, before mounting my bike and joining them in the chase.
Brenda
Stormi never showed to help me with the cleaning. That’s so typical of her lately. It wasn’t like that before, back in Vegas when we were still BFFs. She was always there for me then. We’ve known each other most of our lives, but we’d started to drift apart long before the Sinners took us.
Still, I can’t just blame that for her not wanting to spend time with me anymore. Nor can I just blame Ace, the guy she found and who’s been showing her a lot of the good kind of attention. The kind I’ve never really gotten from a guy, but I can recognize it well enough. No. It was my sharp tongue and mean comments that drove her away. They seeped from how I speak to the Sinners to how I speak to her too. They shouldn’t have. But she should’ve helped me more at the bar.
Right now, as I make my way across the dark, quiet courtyard to my bedroom, after having just loaded the last set of glasses in the dishwasher and turned it on, I’m not sure if I want to seek Stormi out to yell at her for not making an appearance tonight or to apologize for being such a bitch to her these last couple of weeks.
I just know I want to see her. My best friend in the world. Ever. And my only friend here.
It didn’t dawn on me that she might be getting in on with Ace in her bedroom until I’d already opened the door to her bedroom without knocking.
Turns out I shouldn’t have worried. The room is dark, smells fresh, yet close in the way rooms that hadn’t been occupied for a while do. I can still smell traces of the lavender scent she likes so much that she gets everything in lavender—soap, shampoo, even perfume. One time, she found these tiny satchels filled with dried lavender and she’d carry them around in her purse. It drove me crazy.
Her room’s not neat by any stretch of the imagination. The bed’s unmade, the comforter half on the bed and half on the floor. Jeans, skirts, t-shirts, panties, and shorts are strewn all over the place. Where’d she even get this many outfits? Shoplifting, most likely. She’s always been a master at that, while I’ve never been any good at it.
She’s not here. She hasn’t been here for hours. She’s also probably coming back here with Ace when she returns. I want to lie down on her bed and wait for her, still unsure what I’ll actually say to her when she does, only knowing I’m not ready to face the reality and inescapability of my own empty bedroom here—a room just as small and just as messy as this one.
But I leave anyway. Because it’s inescapable that I do.
I wish that guy had stayed at the bar talking to me. Even after he left, I kept waiting for him to return. Kept searching for him among the rows and rows of Sinners partying it up like tonight was their last chance to have some fun. But he never came back. Do I really blame him? I’d take one look at that place and turn right around and leave if I could. Tomorrow he’ll just be a memory. A day later, less than that. Eventually, I’ll get out of here too.