Thunder (Hell's Handlers MC #10) - Lilly Atlas Page 0,136
Long as they supported some biker asses, they could be pink and sparkly for all he gave a shit.
The orange glow of her cigarette traveled through the air as she lifted it to her mouth, took a drag, then held it up. “Share?” she asked without turning to see who’d joined her.
“Nah, quit that shit a while ago.” He sat in an empty chair next to her, joining her in the peace and quiet that one could only find when staring at nature.
“Hmm, me too,” she said with a chuckle.
“You’re gonna have to stay here a few days.” He propped an ankle on his knee and relaxed back into the chair.
“I was planning on it.”
“Well, it’s more important now than it was a few hours ago. Someone attacked the CDMC clubhouse tonight. From what the sheriff said, they decimated the place. Left very few survivors, and the ones that are alive are in bad fucking shape.”
“Huh, you don’t say?” She took another drag from the cigarette, attention fixed on the gently blowing trees in the woods.
“Yep. Crazy, huh?”
“It certainly is.”
Nothing flickered across her face. Not shock, surprise, pleasure, fear. The woman brought stoic to a new level.
“Turns out the men who attacked were looking for a woman named Delilah. No one seems to know who she is, but uh, it sounds like she’s damn lucky they didn’t find her.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Hold on, the story gets crazier. Someone made an anonymous call warning the CDMC of the attack. Majority of the attackers were killed too. The CDMC gave as good as they fucking got.” The smell of her cigarette brought back memories of sitting with his fellow dancers in just this way after a night of shaking his ass and having tips stuffed down his briefs. He didn’t experience even a flicker of desire to return to that lifestyle.
“You don’t say?”
“That’s what the sheriff told us. Anyway, seems anyone who might have been in the CDMC’s crosshair is now a free woman…or man. At least they will be after we have official ID confirmation that they’re all dead.”
“Good news for your club.” Each time she lifted the cigarette to her mouth, the glow illuminated her battered face.
“Sure is.”
They fell silent, soaking up the tranquil quiet of the evening, so in contrast to the carnage that occurred just twenty miles away.
After a while, Thunder stood. He dropped his hand to Kristy’s shoulder and gave a squeeze. “Thank you.”
Finally, she turned her head to look up at him. “For the chat? We’re friends, Thunder. Anytime.”
Their gazes stayed locked for a few seconds. Though the words would never be spoken aloud, neither of them were under the false impression he’d been referring to this little heart-to-heart. Kristy had purposefully steered Makenna’s family toward the CDMC. No, she couldn’t have known exactly how it’d play out, but she’d seen an opportunity to help herself and her friend, and she’d taken it.
This would be the one and only time he acknowledged it. The secret would die with them because Kristy would be in a world of trouble should the cops catch wind of her involvement. A woman beaten by the CDMC’s enforcer happened to accidentally send a deadly pseudo-militia to their doorstep—even the cops weren’t dumb enough to buy that horseshit. So she’d play dumb, and he’d keep his trap shut.
And Makenna would now be free to live her life without fear for herself or her siblings.
After giving Kristy’s shoulder a final affectionate squeeze, Thunder made his way back inside only to find Makenna chatting with Izzy at the bar.
“There he is,” Izzy said, pointing toward him. “Thunder, take your woman home, she can’t keep her eyes open.”
Mak’s drowsy gaze met his, and his stomach flipped. Even though they’d do nothing more than pass out the moment they got to her house, he was as excited as ever to be in her bed. “Shit, babe, you look like you went a few rounds in the ring with Iz here.”
With a weak chuckle, Mak stood. “Feels like it, too.” Swaying on her feet, she leaned into him.
Her soft weight against him brought up all these possessive, caveman feelings. Though everyone in the club already knew she belonged to him, he couldn’t help but grab her face and kiss with the intensity of a brand.
Mak moaned into his mouth at the same time Izzy whistled.
Rolling his eyes, he released his woman. She gave him a glassy-eyed, slightly dopy smile.