Dirty Deals by Nicole James Page 0,52
of my arms, and it’s then I notice her suitcase is zipped up and resting on the bed. What the actual fuck?
“You leavin’ me, Ashlynn? Seriously?”
She whirls on me, her eyes glassy with tears, her voice damn near a shout. “It’s my fault, Rusty. Can’t you see that? I have to go before they do worse, before they destroy your clubhouse.”
I grab her arm and yank her to me. “So that’s it? Just pick up and leave? Walk out and don’t look back? That your M.O?”
The tears spill over, and she shakes her head. “I don’t want to leave you, but I have to, don’t you see?”
“What I see is a coward.”
She pulls her head back like I’ve slapped her. Then moves toward the bag.
“You touch that suitcase, we’re done.”
My words stop her. She hesitates, but she doesn’t look at me. I step behind her and close my hands over her shoulders, dipping my head alongside hers. I murmur in her ear, “I love you, Ashlynn. Fucking fell hard for you a long time ago. I know I haven’t said it. Been keepin’ it to myself, but you need to know.” I feel her body tremble, and she covers her face with both hands and bursts into sobs. Not exactly the reaction I was expecting, but an honest one at least. She turns and buries her face in my chest, clinging to me. She mumbles something, but between the sobs and her face against my leather, I can’t hear her. “What, angel?”
“I love you, too,” she whispers between breaths.
I clutch her to me, drawing strength from the feel of her in my arms.
“You can’t keep running, baby. I’m not going to let you,” I growl. “Trust I’m gonna handle this shit, babe.”
“I’m tired, Rusty. So tired of running.”
“Then stop. Whatever comes, we’ll face it together. You with me?”
She nods, and I take her head in my hands and brush the wetness from her cheeks with my thumbs.
“You’re safe with me. I swear it. Gonna spend the rest of my life makin’ sure you stay that way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Rusty—
I’m standing with my arms folded, watching the company I hired board up the storefront to my shop.
Reno tosses his cigarette and looks over at me. “You get any sleep last night?”
“Not much. Too worried about this shit.”
He nods and looks at the sky. “Barely noon and it’s already hot as hell.”
“Yup.”
He lifts his chin toward the garage bay doors. “You think it’ll be safe there?”
“Yeah.” I don’t have to look to know he’s referring to my prized motorcycle, the first I ever built. We were allowed in the building for a quick survey with a fireman escorting us. Got damn lucky that the office and that bike I kept there took no damage, although the place is going to reek of smoke for a long time. The security tapes revealed nothing, unfortunately.
“You want me to organize the club to start cleaning the place up?”
I shake my head. “We’ve got more important shit to do.”
“Find these sons-of-bitches?”
“Exactly. Can’t waste club manpower on this bullshit.”
“Good point.”
“I made some calls this morning. Hired a fire damage restoration company to clean up and remove the water and smoke damage. It’s gonna cost a small fortune, but it needs to be done right.”
“Well, at least we were able to get your bike moved.”
“Yeah.”
“How’s Ashlynn doing?” he asks.
“I got her settled down. She wanted to run last night, but I talked her out of it. She feels guilty as hell about this.” I turn to him. “Thanks for bringing Butterfly to be with her today. Means a lot.”
“Absolutely. When Kara heard what happened, I couldn’t have kept her away. Apparently, some of the other women felt the same way. Hell I even saw Vee pull up before we left.”
I nod, distracted. I reach in the pocket of my cut for my smokes and lighter and feel a piece of paper. I pull it out and stare down at it. Warren’s business card.
I light my cigarette and think.
Reno squats down, watching the workers.
I blow out a stream of smoke. “Feel like taking a ride?”
“Sure. Where you wanna go?” He stands, his knees cracking.
I hold the card up. I’d already told him about Warren’s visit. We’d discussed him at length.
He eyes the card and smiles. “Let’s go.”
I drop the cigarette, grinding the butt under my boot, and we mount up.
Twenty minutes later we roll onto the lot of the Garden Inn on Hillcrest, park, and find his door.
I knock. “Warren?”
He opens