His Loyal Rebel - Debra Kayn Page 0,24

not to surprise her on her shift.

His reason to stop by, wanting his gun back, was an excuse. He could get a gun anywhere. Plus, he had other ones at his house. She'd seen them.

Quickly glancing around the room, she slipped the cash out of her pocket and counted out the right amount for the pie from her tips. She put the money in the cash register and then grabbed another pot of coffee.

Thankful no one caught her paying for Big's pie, she went to wait her tables. The sun had set, making it impossible to see out the large windows in the front of the restaurant.

She grew more nervous, the closer it got to closing time. Whip's warnings kept creeping back in her head.

She'd make sure she walked with the others to her car after work. But for the first time, she was nervous about going home alone.

She hadn't had time to get used to the house or the neighborhood. Every little noise or a car passing on the street seemed strange and made her imagination work overtime.

It was different when Angie lived there. Now that she was alone, she let Whip's warnings take up too much space in her head.

Whip was sure Big would come after her. She'd shot down the idea, blaming his hate for everyone in Cusclan.

But what if she was wrong and he was right?

Chapter 13

Whip

Frank and Rick rode up to the cabin. Whip stepped out and raised his hand. Normally, he'd enjoy the solitude of staying by himself. It was a break from living at the clubhouse.

But, damned, he missed Twyla and her temper.

His MC brothers cut the engines. He approached them, hoping they'd got a bead on Big's head, and stopped the threat toward him. The last thing he needed was to be out of commission because the cops were looking for him.

"News?" he asked.

"Only that Big and a guy named Cross paid Twyla a visit at her work." Frank put his feet up on the pegs and stayed on his bike. "We sent a crew of riders out who had no prior records to see if they could grab law enforcement's attention. They ghosted through. Priest talked with the contact at the police department, and he'd heard a cop named Maxwell had put out the call on you, but it was only for one night—the night you were chased."

"Then it's over?" He stepped backward, ready to grab his duffle and head out.

"It'll never be over." Rick met his gaze. "We need you, though. I'll have your back until you're comfortable."

"'Preciate it, brother." He walked into the house, grabbed his duffle, and shut the door. At his Harley, he said, "Twyla's okay?"

"Yeah." Frank started his motorcycle. "Tucked in at the house. Slick is within earshot."

Whip started his Harley and followed the others as they wound their way along the deeply rutted trail out to the highway. Slick would know if any motorcycle came around the area where Twyla was staying. He concentrated on that, while the frustration of Big making contact with Twyla after she'd left the cabin simmered inside of him.

He knew the mind of a biker better than Twyla. She hadn't wanted to believe him, while he would've staked all his money on how Big would react.

Opening the throttle on the straight road, his thoughts cleared, and his doubts fled. He knew what needed to be done.

He wasn't going to hide. If the cops weren't looking for him, the only ones who wanted him were Big and Cusclan MC.

Until he died, he would seek retribution for the murder of his parents. If they wanted to come and get him, he'd stand out on the street corner and wait for them.

Pitting the cops after him was a pussy move on a war that would eventually end with death.

The motherfuckers had hurt his family long enough. His sister lived with the trauma Cusclan put her through daily. They owed him for the years he spent in prison paying for a crime that wasn't his, to protect his sister. He looked at his brother-in-law every day and knew the scars that were camouflaged with tattoos.

Cusclan Motorcycle Club needed to be taken out.

Turning off the interstate, he slowed, taking the road into Missoula. His senses remained on high alert. Even with two members with him, he felt targeted.

It was hard to shake off paranoia.

Rick glanced back at him. Whip lifted two fingers off the handlebar. His brother-in-law understood. They'd both shared a cell at one