His Loyal Rebel - Debra Kayn Page 0,51

now until Wednesday, think over what you're doing. Make sure Twyla's the woman you want having your back."

"You make it sound like things are going to get touchy."

Priest dipped his chin. "Blood will flow."

Whip sat at the table for a few more minutes. His thoughts circled through everything he'd heard without knowing what the hell was going to happen.

Was it fair to thrust Twyla into life with him if there was a chance he would be taken out? That she would lose him?

He stood, the chair legs screeching against the floor. Change was coming.

"Send Curley in," said Priest.

"Will do." He stepped into the hallway and walked into the main room.

Frank passed him. He smacked his MC brother's arm, getting his attention.

"Have you seen Curley?" He gazed through the women dancing in front of the couch.

"About a half-hour ago. He was outside seeing Faye off."

"Was he planning on sticking around?" He noticed since Curley had Walker's niece move in with him, he chose to go home early or skip out on the parties.

"No idea."

"Thanks, brother." He walked across the room and went outside.

Banks, Slick, Jerry, and Roddy, stood together over by the motorcycles. He walked to the group and slapped Curley on the back, getting his Vice President's attention. Lifting his chin, he motioned toward the door, taking Curley a few feet away from the others.

"Priest wants you in the meeting room." He opened the front door.

"Thanks, man." Curley walked ahead of him.

Whip grabbed an unopened beer bottle off the table and continued to the hallway. Letting himself in the bedroom, he took in Twyla sleeping soundly on the bed. She probably keeled over as soon as he'd left earlier because she still had her shorts and shirt on and laid on top of the covers.

He flipped the light off and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark before stepping over to the wooden chair below the window. Opening the beer, he chugged half the liquid before setting it aside and taking off his boots.

Gazing at Twyla, there was no choice to make regarding her. If she was in his life, she'd need to go through the tough times. All he could promise was that he would make more good moments than bad.

And he would do everything possible to stay free and alive. He wanted to spend a lifetime with her.

Chapter 25

Twyla

Whip sat on his motorcycle outside Mama Jean's Pie Shoppe. Twyla pushed out the front door and hurried straight to him. Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him

He cupped her ass, tugging her closer. She peppered his lips, smiling at him.

"What's got—" He kissed her. "You so—" He chuckled when she stole his words by capturing his lips. "Happy?"

She pulled back, barely able to contain herself. "I got a raise."

"You deserve it." He kissed her again.

"Mm." Her stomach fluttered. "That's not the best news."

"There's more?"

Her cheeks ached from her smile. "From now on, I'm the opening supervisor, and my hours will change. I'll be working from eleven o'clock until six o'clock. No more closing, so you don't have to sit out here in the dark—well, except when winter comes and the sun goes down earlier, but hopefully, you won't have to protect me by then, right?"

"Right," he muttered, flashing her a grin. "Congratulations."

She hugged him again. "I'll go jump in my car so we can get out of here."

He caught her wrist, pulling her back when she tried to step away. "Change of plans."

"Oh?" She stayed beside him. "What are we doing?"

"You'll see." He let go of her. "Follow me."

She nodded and walked to her car at a slower pace, not knowing where they were going. It wasn't like him not to tell her. As long as he'd stayed at her job while she worked, they'd always gone straight home. It was past eleven o'clock. Not many places were still open. The restaurants around town all closed at eleven, leaving only the bars available until two o'clock in the morning.

Turning on her headlights, she backed out of the parking spot. Usually, she led the way back to the clubhouse. But following him, she could admire the view of Whip riding his motorcycle.

He looked formidable in jeans and a leather vest. The black T-shirt stretched at his shoulders. His hair blew below the helmet on his head.

She squeezed the steering wheel, stopping at a red light, and caught him looking at her in his side mirror. A nervous bubble popped inside of her. He made following him