Colt (Devil's Nightmare MC #10) - Lena Bourne Page 0,64
it’s only one PM. We still have a little time.
“Brenda,” I whisper right into her ear. “Wake up.”
She stirs and opens her eyes, looking confused and disoriented like a doe, her deep blue eyes innocent and sparkling.
“I should go soon,” I add.
All the innocence vanishes from her eyes as they narrow at me. She rises, cursing as her elbow snags a lock of her lock hair in her haste to be up and glaring at me.
“Just like that?” she asks.
“Can you look at the pictures first?” I ask, refusing to get sucked back into the conversation we started this visit with. I showed her and told her all that she needs to know about the way things are between us. She understood. We don’t need to waste any more of the little time we have arguing.
“Can you take me to lunch first?” she counters, her eyes still blazing, but in a softer way. She knows what I know. “Somewhere nice. I’m starving and I’m sick of this plain old room.”
Arguing would waste time. Time I’d rather spend looking at her face and talking about more pleasant things. Or just share a silence. Or eating. I could eat, all I had to eat for the last two days are sandwiches in various stages of going bad from being out in the heat.
“You got it,” I say and grin at her.
“Good,” she says and gives me one of those perfect smiles of her, the ones that are equal parts pure happiness and wicked desire, and I dare any man to stay cool and collected when faced with it. “But shower first.”
She leaps off the bed, takes my hand, and pulls me after her to the bathroom.
And once she starts lathering up my whole body, including my hair with her soft, deft hands, I lose all track of time again. And all desire to regain it. Ever. I lose all worry over how I’m gonna explain how long I took getting the info. What comes, comes. It is not now. It is not this perfect woman touching me in ways no woman has ever touched me, making me feel things I’ve never felt before. Things like wholeness, belonging, finding something you lost. Something without which life really is not worth living.
19
Colt
The late afternoon sun is beating at my back and blinding me through my rearview mirrors as I ride back to the bunker, with all the information I needed and more.
Brenda recognized every one of the guys and even wrote out their names and what they most likely did for the club after she found my own chicken-scratch handwriting wanting. Her words, not mine. But accurate.
She was more reluctant to tell me the women’s names but did so after I assured her that whatever happens, none of them will be harmed. We’re only after the men, the ones who would sell us all out to gain an advantage for themselves. Kill or be killed. That’s our world. That’s everyone’s world. It’s just more obvious in ours.
“I don’t enjoy it,” I told her. “But I’ll do what I must to protect what’s mine.”
She gave me a lingering, soft-eyed look when I said it, that seemed to last an eternity and more.
Then she told me the names and places of all the women, including the two that somehow didn’t make it onto the photos.
I’m confident now that this job won’t take more than a night. Maybe two. One for planning, one for execution.
And I told her as much, before I left, when she got all cold and prissy again, before melting into my arms as I kissed her goodbye and then waving me off from the doorway of the motel room.
It will take me a lifetime to figure out her mood shifts and what goes on behind those pretty, midnight-blue eyes of hers. And I’m more than willing to give it.
Brenda
I was of two minds as I let him go and watched him ride off, and they were at war with each other. Anger and frustration crashing against understanding and love. Love confessed. Love expressed. Love shown.
It won out.
The sheets were wonderfully crumpled and smelled of him as I lay down in the spot he woke me up earlier to still my racing heart and quell the last flames of my frustration at things being as they are. At having to wait for him.
Wait while he does murder.
Murder I assisted in by giving him the names of those who must die.