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“And you have enemies, I know,” she added, eyeing me like I was the devil himself.
I couldn’t help but chuckle, thinkin’ of the wild shit I’ve pulled.
But then Rage threw a curveball. “Who’s got a beef with Brat?”
My gut twisted with worry, but I played it cool. “You figure someone’s got a personal vendetta, tied her to Viper’s death on purpose?”
“Damn straight. Someone’s out for blood. Set her up with a club known for shootin’ first, thinkin’ later. You rolled up here with the same game, right? Take out Brat?”
A wave of regret hit, but I shook it off quick, remembering I’m the prez, I do things my way. “Wanted answers first, not a hit.”
“Brat’s got ties that run deep. Could be someone aiming for her old man through her. Picked a guy like you for the dirty work.”
My mind raced. “She’s chasing down Cowgirl solo?”
Rage looked taken aback. “Thought she was with you on that.”
Panic edged in. “Where’d she head off to?” I needed to find Star, make sure she was safe, screw everything else.
Rage’s worry was clear. “Brat knows how to handle herself, Riptide,” she said, but that didn’t cut the dread knotting up inside me.
I hit the road from the Roost, thoughts hammering. Star could be out there, alone, facing hell, all because I didn’t back her play from the get-go.
As I fired up my bike, the night air snapped with a fresh intensity. My only mission now was to track down Star, make damn sure she was safe. Before, I was all about pulling her back into my life.
Now, it was about keeping her breathing. With the shadow of some unseen threat looming over us, and the scent of war in the air, safeguarding Star, piecing together her moves, and untangling the mess between our clubs was all that mattered. The road ahead was lined with risks, but backing down wasn’t in my cards.
I hit the gas, burning through my contacts, scoping out every dive I knew, hunting for any sign of her. When I rolled into the Jolly Roger, a dive bar that was the epitome of rough and tumble, I was laser-focused. Rumor had it Star might be here, and with the heat cranking up between our clubs, the idea of her solo in this mess had me wired.
Then, there she was, standing out like a beacon. Star, in all her fiery glory, her red hair a stark contrast against the dim, grungy backdrop of the bar. Ditched her usual biker getup for something that screamed danger in a whole different way, a black dress that clung to her like it was painted on, and heels that had her standing tall, a badass queen in a den of thieves. Her makeup was dialed to the max, eyes smoky and lips a slash of red, playing the undercover card hard.
But she was locked in a tight face-off with some dude, his back to me. I hung back a second, ears pricked at their heated chat.
“Spill it, Justin. Where’s Cowgirl?” Star’s voice cut through the bar noise, sharp and loaded with a threat that had my instincts on high alert.
“Came crawling back to me, huh?” Justin, her damn ex, I just discovered, threw out with a nasty chuckle that tightened something in my chest. His laugh was bitter, filled with scorn. “Why the hell would I spill anything to you, Brat? Think you can just roll up and demand answers after you ditched?”
Star grabbed him by the collar. “You’ll talk ‘cause you know I’ll make you regret it big time if you don’t.”
That’s when Justin clocked me coming over, and his smirk just stretched. “What’s this? Your Slayer boy toy gonna play hero?”
I didn’t hesitate, stepping right into the mix, making it clear. “Spill it, Justin. Where’s Cowgirl hiding?”
He puffed up, all cocky, like he was in some playground spat. “Whatcha gonna do, rough me up?”
The scrap that followed was quick and harsh. Justin didn’t stand a chance against the muscle and grit I’d built from years of defending my turf and my people. Each strike I landed was a statement. Star wasn’t on her own. We were in this mess together.
He buckled under a solid hit, coughing out the details with a string of cussing. “She’s around, hits up Shamrocks Bar often. That’s all I got, man.”
Leaving Justin to lick his wounds and ego, my mind kept circling back to Star in that black dress, her guts and grit blazing through the night’s madness.
Once outside, my words came out harder than I intended. “What were you thinking, chasing down Cowgirl solo?”
“You were onto something about not trusting all the sisters,” she countered, leaning into me, her body a solid line of tension. “Needed some air, to think straight.”
Her eyes, shiny with unshed tears, met mine, laying bare her inner chaos. It was clear she was wrestling with whether to let me in all the way.
Cupping her face gently, I laid it out. “Forget my ex. She’s history. But you, Star, don’t bail on me again.”
