Cruz (Dark and Dirty Sinners' MC #5) - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,7

him by the ears and to break his neck in one clean move with a crack of sound that ricocheted around the small space as loud as if she’d used a fucking gun.

Dog immediately crumpled to the ground, and Lodestar leaped back, her boots thudding hard as gravity had her colliding with the asphalt a few feet from the corpse of a man who, until a few minutes ago, was a brother.

Guilt hit me for not doing something to help, but none of this had gone down as I expected. I’d thought I’d—

“Shit, what did you think?” I muttered under my breath, so low that no one could hear it.

No. Fucking. One.

That was how I’d earned my rep—Grim Reaper. Silent.

Only, Lodestar did hear me.

Her head whipped around and she found me, her eyes narrowing as she pinned me in a death stare.

For all that she’d taken down Dog like the pro she was, I wasn’t scared, and that wasn’t arrogance talking, it was just common sense. When she’d moved toward Dog, there’d been something about her body language. The way she moved, the way she comported herself. Sure, she’d been hunting him, so stealth was important, but there was a lack of urgency about her that told me I was safe from her.

And it had nothing to do with the heat I was packing either. I had a feeling she’d have my guns out of my hands as fast as I could blink.

No, I’d definitely underestimated Lodestar, which told me I’d underestimated Maverick too. Which was interesting, because I rarely underestimated people.

“You saw nothing,” she intoned as she moved toward me, striding down the alleyway. “And what you did see, you should know was deserved.”

Deserved? What did that mean?

“There are cameras,” I muttered, uneasy despite myself.

She cut me a look. “No one can touch me, Cruz. And if they can, then they’re worthy adversaries. It’s been a long time since I played, so that should be a hoot.”

A hoot?

My eyes widened at her, but she wasn’t interested in me. At all.

My pride wasn’t exactly pricked, but I found myself hovering there like a pussy. Feeling like shit for not helping Dog pre- or post-death. I mean, it wasn’t like I was picking up my cell and calling either the council or the police. I just watched Lodestar stride off, hips swaying as if she were walking down a catwalk and not on the sidewalk beside a coffee shop. She didn’t look back. Her confidence clear as dust.

She evidently believed I wouldn’t say a word. Why that was, I didn’t know, but the need to go over there, to pat down the body, get rid of the evidence was harder than I could say. I’d settle for just emptying Dog’s pockets, trying to figure out what he was doing down here in the first place—

The back door to the coffee shop opened, creaking loudly as it collided with the wall. A muttered, “Shit,” told me whoever it was hadn’t intended on letting the door smack into the brick as it had.

The light, which had already been dying as night fell, was close to non-existent now, but a glow spilled out of the opening, puddling around Dog like a soft, muted blanket. I saw the back of a head, hair tugged into two stubby pigtails, a waitress’ pink apron dancing around slender calves, before I heard a scream.

The woman ran at Dog, nearly skidding as her knees collided with the ground. That she didn’t run off, or run back into the coffee shop made me realize she knew him. And knowing what Dog was like, even though he was an ugly fuck with a belly that hung over his jeans, I had to figure she was the reason he was sneaking down this alley.

Shit.

People tumbled out of the back door at her scream, crowding around the corpse as I jerked into action, making my way toward the truck once more. As I did, I kept my head tucked low, just in case any CCTV picked up on me, and I leaped behind the wheel once more.

What I’d just seen, I’d never unsee. Not the death, that was a common sight in my world. But Lodestar’s behavior…

Everyone knew she’d sneaked into the Fridge and had done something to Lancaster that had made him talk, that made him routinely scream like a banshee in the middle of the night.

When you looked at her, it was easy to see a pretty woman. Seemingly mild-mannered. Her