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Callie glanced up at the biker, then winced.
“So it’s true then. He caught the guy’s car on fire?”
“You should see the photos this group has taken; there are kids involved, Laur. I know it sounds harsh, but they’re a hate group, and they need to be stopped.”
I already knew as much based on what I’d heard. “I’m not judging. I’m trying to understand, and if anything, be prepared.”
Harris made a sound of agreement before moving toward his bike.
We began doing the same toward Callie’s car when my heart pinched tight.
“Did you grow up with that sort of response from people because of your dad?”
She paused, staring at me with a surprised expression.
“Yeah, actually I did. It’s not new to me and it doesn’t bother me anymore. I would have liked to shop local, but it’s her loss.”
“Damn straight it is. Stupid, snobby bitch.”
Harris laughed, shaking his head while he pulled on his helmet. His bike was parked directly behind Callie’s rig.
“I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”
We went to a soup and salad place with tall, deep booths and soft lighting. It was cozy and warm, thanks to a fire roaring in the hearth. It was early November, but a chill had definitely entered the air, and the clouds were heavy with an impending storm.
While we ate, I decided to fill Callie in on what small information I could share with her while not divulging everything. I landed on telling her what had happened with Kip that big initiation night.
My best friend’s eyes were blown wide the second I finished.
“So that’s what Wes was talking about?”
“What?” I moved my salad around with my fork.
Callie shrugged, ducking her head until she was focused on her meal. “Nothing, he was just on the phone asking questions to someone. I’m assuming it was Giles, because he kept saying things like, ‘he did what, and how bad was it, is he going to be okay’ those sorts of things.”
“I have no clue why Killian lost it on him like that,” I lied, already knowing full well he’d lost it like that because Killian considered me his plaything. Nothing more, or less, just a toy.
But his just the same.
Callie kept her face down and her tone low. “He doesn’t like seeing women hurt…something to do with his dad, I’m sure. He’s in prison for murdering a Sweetbutt. She was really young, like nineteen or something.”
The memory of Killian’s nonchalant threat of being dared to go in his attic slammed back into me, forcing my fork to drop. He was being serious…
“Don’t worry, he’s behind bars,” Callie was quick to reassure me, swallowing her bite of food, “My dad never lifted a finger to help him get out, and I know Killian won’t either as president. Jefferson is still loyal to the Stone Riders, even if he’s in prison.”
Jefferson, that was Killian’s dad’s name. His father, the murderer.
“Okay I have to know.” I blinked, feeling untethered and confused. “Why would Killian take me to his dad’s house and act so casual about it? He said he took hookups there. I mean…is something wrong with him? Doesn’t it seem sort of strange that he’s so comfortable being in the place where the murder happened?”
Callie’s focus was completely on me now, her lips spreading into a smile.
“The murder didn’t happen in that house. Poor Jenny was found in a dumpster behind Strings. She was a dancer in Pyle…”
I felt so stupid.
With my face blanching, I lowered it. “Oh. Well good then. I was worried Killian was a sociopath.”
Callie started laughing.
