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My smile brightens. “And you said we don’t know each other anymore.”
Her gaze narrows. “Deflection. It must be bad, then.”
“Nope. Not bad,” I assure her. “But I do have to leave the ranch for a bit.” I hold her gaze, needing her to see that I’m dead serious.
Ivy pushes off the bed, her eyes lock with mine as she closes the distance between us. She stops a few feet from me, folding her arms over her chest. “Don’t sugarcoat shit, Stone. If this is gonna work?—”
“It is,” I insist.
“Then be straight up with me. I can handle it.” The way she nibbles her bottom lip tells me she’s not sure at all.
“Nothing to tell. I’m going out just to get a lay of the land, that’s all.” It isn’t a lie. I have no destination in mind, but the need to go out and avenge my brother courses through my veins like an infection, and violence is the only cure.
“Alone.” It’s not a question.
“Just me and my bike, yeah.”
There’s so much she wants to say, and I wait for her to tear me a new asshole with her words. Fire burns in her eyes, but she says nothing. Just nods and turns away from me.
“Ivy, please.”
She shakes her head. “You do what you have to do, Stone. All I ask is that you be careful. People are crazy these days.”
My shoulders relax at her words. She’s not angry. She’s scared, and I go to her and wrap my arms around her. “I’ll be extremely careful. People have been crazy for years. Way before we were born.”
“Hmph,” she grumbles.
“I’ll be crawling into bed beside you before you know it.” Sifting my fingers through her thick hair, I tilt her head back and feast on her mouth, devouring her lips until we’re both breathless. “I’ll finish that kiss later.”
She gives my chest a gentle shove, her full lips shiny as they part into a sultry smile. “Maybe I’ll let you. Be safe.”
“Always,” I repeat the word two more times between kisses, and then I make my escape before I’m too distracted to leave.
Minutes later, it’s just me, my bike, and the open road. The need to settle this grudge consumes me. I stop at all the usual haunts in search of my prey.
Smoky looks up from the bar with a long cigarette dangling from his lips, one black and silver brow arches up. “Looking for trouble again?”
“Not exactly,” I smile. “I’m wondering if you’ve seen Trey around?”
Smoky shakes his head. “Not for a few days, no. You sure you wanna go looking for him? That one’s got a screw loose up in here,” he says, pointing at his head and making the universal gesture for crazy.
“Don’t wanna, Smoky, but I have to.” It’s a matter of fucking honor. Principle.
“Yeah, yeah,” he replies with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Try Crossbones over in Tulip. Lots of bikers hang out there.”
“Thanks, Smoky.”
“Don’t thank me. If your Ma gets in my face, I’ll pretend I don’t even know you.”
A smile splits my lips, and I share a laugh with Smoky before leaving the bar. “You got it, old man. Thanks for the tip.”
Crossbones is an old wooden shack-style bar, and the only parking out front is for motorcycles, a true mark of a biker bar. Loud country rock music blares through what passes for windows in a place with no windows. Just a few squares cut around the structure because nobody in their right mind is stupid enough to knock over a biker bar.
Inside, the place is dimly lit, smoky as fuck, and packed with bikers. I scan the room as best I can in search of Trey’s face, but he’s not here.
I stop at the bar and order a shot of whiskey, giving myself time to be certain as I carefully peruse the groups of bikers.
He's not here, I decide as I finish my drink. I’m fucking disappointed because my hands itch to fuck some shit up. My return to Opey has been mostly quiet, at least quieter than things ever were in Angel Harbor. I need some action, or else I’ll go crazy.
