Just be grateful you’re not still in that van!” another girl turned, and snapped at the blonde.
Cole walked out onto the porch with Wyatt. Angel watched as they slapped each other on the back. Cole walked toward her, the rest of the guys followed.
“Ready, ladies?” he asked.
“Yes, they’re ready.” Angel spoke for them.
“Let’s ride.” He took Angel by the hand, and headed to his bike. The rest of the guys followed, each with a girl.
Chapter Six
Hours later they were almost back. Angel noticed that one by one, the guys were breaking from the pack, and heading off in different directions.
“Where are they going? she asked Cole, over his shoulder.
“Taking them home. At least, close enough for them to get home on their own,” he turned his head, and answered.
A short time later, Cole pulled into the clubhouse. They climbed off the bike. Angel stretched, and rubbed her backside.
Cole smiled. “Sore, baby doll?”
“Guess that’s more riding than I’m used to.” She blushed.
“Yeah. I see that,” he teased. “Come on.” He led her inside.
Mack was sitting at the bar with another brother. A couple more were playing pool.
Cole led her to the bar, and sat down next to Mack. “Sit down, babe.” He indicated the barstool next to him. The guy behind the bar opened a couple bottles of beer, and slid them in front of them.
“How’d it go?” Mack asked.
“It’s handled,” Cole replied, not going into details.
Mack slid a look at Angel, and looked back at Cole. “Good.”
Cole took a hit off the beer, and lit a cigarette.
“Where are the rest of the guys?” Mack asked.
“We headed out first. They’ll be here soon,” Cole answered.
Mack looked at him.
Angel wondered if he knew Cole wasn’t being completely straight with him.
“You gonna run her home?” Mack asked.
Cole took a hit off his cigarette, and looked over at him.
Mack realized he wasn’t going to get an answer. He picked up his drink, finished it in one gulp, and slammed the glass down. “Well, I’ve got some shit to do.” He stood up, and left.
Cole looked straight ahead, until the door slammed, and Mack was gone. He took another hit off his cigarette.
Angel took a sip of her beer, watching Cole. He drank his beer, not saying anything, flipping his silver lighter open and closed, open and closed. She thought he looked like he was grappling with something. She slid her hand on his thigh.
He looked over at her, his eyes going over her face.
“Is everything alright?” she asked quietly.
He put his cigarette out in the ashtray, and downed his beer. “Come on.” Standing up, he took Angel by the hand, and led her up the stairs, and down the hall to his room.
Angel watched Cole unlock the door, and then followed him in. She turned, and studied him as he shut the door, trying to read his mood. She had sensed some tension when he spoke with Mack, and now she wasn’t sure what he was feeling.
He stood, looking at her. “I made you a deal.”
She nodded.
“I kept my end of it.”
“Yes,” she acknowledged.
“It’s done. So, are we good?”
She stared at him, questioningly.
He took a deep breath. “You know what I’m asking, Angel. Is this the end of it? Is your need for retaliation satisfied?”
She frowned, looking away. “Satisfied? That two men are dead?”
“Little late to be having second thoughts now, babe. Isn’t that what you wanted? Have you forgotten what they did to you? They deserved to be punished for that. You know it, and I know it.”
“It is what I wanted. But, they’re dead because of me.”
He shook his head in frustration. “No. Not because of you. Because of them. They brought this on themselves.” He grabbed her by the upper arms, and shook her. “Don’t you ever feel guilty about that. You hear me?”
She looked into his eyes. She wanted to believe him, she needed to believe him.
He knew what it was like to carry that kind of burden, and that was the last thing he wanted for her. He knew what it could do to a person, how it could eat at you. He leaned down close to her face, looking into her eyes. She needed to understand this. “Their deaths? That is not your cross to bear. It’s mine.”
My God. He’d killed two men for her. For her! And now he would carry the burden of it. How could she not feel guilty about that? “It’s not that simple,” she whispered.