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“Since you don’t care either way, I’ll let Hammer know he can take a run at her. He has a major hard-on for the girl. Loves her cookies and wants in that pussy something fierce. He keeps nagging me to ask Angel for her number so he can give her a ride on his Harley.”
My eyes angrily shot up. “Tell Hammer both her cookies and pussy are off limits. Evie’s mine!”
When I calmed down enough to stop seeing red, I noticed Reaper was laughing at me.
“That’s what I thought,” he said and chuckled. “I can’t say he won’t be disappointed. But based on your reaction, he’ll just have to find someone else to be his house mouse.”
Angry beyond reason, I fastened the other end of the plastic while I attempted to get my rage under control. “If he values his life, he’d better.”
Reaper laughed even harder as he helped me hoist the dead weight between us. “I’ll let him know how you feel. I don’t think he’s ready to die over the bitch or anything.”
Carrying the body to an old laundry chute that the factory had long since decommissioned, we carefully fed the plastic burrito once known as Taz into it. We watched as the black, shiny material slithered down to the pit below. We’d have one of our guys who hauled cargo for the Devils on cross-country trips collect it in the morning. From there, he’d drive him out to a remote part of the desert and scatter his remains for the coyotes to feast on.
When we got back to the Clubhouse, I went straight up to my room for a shower. Amelia was sitting on my bed, staring at her phone, when I walked out of the bathroom.
“People don’t knock anymore?” I teased, having already gotten dressed.
It seemed prison had established a routine for me. Get in the shower, wash as fast as possible, then hop out and get dressed. No need to linger around naked. Ever since I’d come home, I’d adhered to this standard. Some habits were hard to break.
Amelia smiled up at me and tucked her phone into her back pocket. “I had a few hours to kill before I returned to the salon and wanted to check in on you. See how everything was going. We haven’t had a chance to talk since you came home.”
I remembered a time when that was my job. Checking in on her. But it would seem that Cantiville had changed my beautiful sister as much as it had me. And like me, it wasn’t for the best. I could see that she was worried. That she feared what happened while I was on the inside. It killed me to know that my prison stint hadn’t just been hell on me. It had been torture for her as well.
“Anything you want to talk about in particular?” I asked, knowing she had something in mind. Hell, I’d helped raise her. I knew that serious face she was wearing. It meant business.
Amelia stood, needing to move as she talked. “Not really,” she hedged. “I just want to know that you’re okay and let you know that I’m here for you if you need anything.”
“I know that, kid,” I told her, feeling as though life had come full circle. “I’m good. You don’t have to worry about me. I promise.”
She nervously cracked her knuckles. “Anything you want to share with me?”
I knew she was pushing for details about Evie, but I didn’t have any to give her right now. Our relationship was so new, so fragile, I didn’t want to jinx it by inviting other people to comment on or critique it.
“Nope,” I said, combing my hair into place and dabbing on some cologne.
“Oh, okay,” Amelia returned, sounding a little disappointed. “Well, just so you know, I’m going out tonight. Hawk’s out of town and I need to get out of the house. Unwind a bit.”
I eyed her suspiciously. My sister never felt the need to explain her plans to me. The woman showed more independence than an American flag on the fourth of July. So what was she up to now?
“Okay,” I said slowly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“I’m taking my friend out to a local bar. You remember, Evie, right?” she added slyly.
I turned, giving her my full attention then. “Yes, I know who she is,” I returned dryly. “And she’s not going out with you to the bar tonight. She already has plans,” I informed her moodily.
“How would you know that?” Amelia asked, a touch too innocently.
“Because she has plans with me,” I answered, tired of the games.
Folding her arms across her chest, Amelia looked like a miniature version of her fiancé, my VP, Hawk. The two of them were spending way too much time together these days.
“Oh really?” she challenged. “You might want to tell her that because she’s already agreed to go out with me.”
My temper skyrocketed, but I fought hard to suppress it. “You’re misinformed. Evie’s not going to some sleazy bar where men can ogle and hit on her all night.”
“Why does it matter to you?” Amelia coyly demanded.
I had to hand it to her. My sister had trapped me into talking this time. “Because she’s my girl, and I say she’s not going,” I answered mulishly.
