Eden's Joker (Devil’s Nightmare MC Next Generation, Book 7)

Chapter 20

Scorpio discovered a rusty workout set at the far end of the Inn’s yard, right by the rusty metal wall encircling the property and behind some disused outbuildings. I bet no one’s used this to actually workout for a good long while, but for other things… sure, lots. But once we got rid of the worst of the condoms, empty bottles, and other garbage it’s been an OK place to hang out undisturbed and blow off some steam.

We’re supposed to be pretending we don’t know each other, but we can now pretend we met while working out. I’ve been doing nothing but. Scorpio’s mostly been lounging in the shade by the wall. At least we can talk normally. As much as I enjoy scheming and such, I do have a tendency to get lost in my own lies sometimes until even I no longer know what’s real and what I’m just pretending is real. Scorpio’s good at reining me back from that.

“You might wanna lay off the bench presses,” he says. “You don’t want your arms to fall off before this mission even starts.”

He finds that incredibly funny and I’m sure the half empty bottle of whiskey he’s sucking on has a lot to do with that. One of these days I’ll get him into a program and fuck anyone who thinks that’s a pussy thing to do. A lot of the brothers probably will think that. But Scorpio’s been like family my whole life and we’ve been together, fighting side by side, ever since we reconnected in some flea infested foster home nearly twenty years ago now. I’d hate to lose him to the bottle before he’s even reached middle age.

“The mission is well underway,” I assure him and switch to free weights.

The midday sun is hot as hell. Sweat is running down my back and face, and damn near everywhere else. I should probably listen to him and find some shade, but I’m still reeling at how close I came to losing my connection to Eden.

She took hours to reply to my texts last night. Hours I spend worrying that she never would.

It’s not even that I couldn’t grovel and beg and make sure she took me back. I was certain I could get my way with her in the end.

It was something else. A different kind of worry. Like a poisonous snake coiling in the pit of my stomach.

“Is it, though?” Scorpio asks, sounding very sober all of a sudden.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs and gulps down some more of his drink.

I toss the dumbbell on the ground, cracking one of the concrete slabs, and join him in the shade.

“No, seriously, what is that supposed to mean?”

He narrows his eyes at me like he’s trying to determine if I am indeed serious. I am.

“It’s just that you’ve been dragging your feet with her,” he says. “Some of the guys are beginning to wonder if maybe you grew some feelings for her.”

I laugh, but it sounds metallic and fake. I hope Scorpio is drunk enough not to notice.

“Is that what they’ve been saying?” I ask and sit down next to him. “And who’s they?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just drinks some more. Odds are good that no one said anything of the sort and it’s just Scorpio who’s been thinking it. We’ve been through a lot. As much as I hate to admit it, he can read me pretty well.

“I want her to come with me because she wants it,” I say. “And that’s gonna take a couple of extra days. Ice and the Devils are down in Texas anyway.”

“All the more reason to get it done now, while they’re gone,” he says. “I should think.”

He’s eying me sideways, trying to gauge his reaction. I keep my eyes fixed on a scorched condom wrapper blowing around in the breeze.

“They can’t stop us,” I say and stand up. “I need a shower.”

And I don’t need to listen to any more of his doubts. I have enough of my own. It’s not just one poisonous snake in my stomach. It’s many. They multiply when I get nervous and confused. I thought they’d be gone now that I’ve begun taking the revenge I’ve lived for since I can remember. None of this sits well with me and I can’t figure out why.

“Just don’t fucking fall in love with her,” he calls after me. “That’s all I’m saying.”

He finds that incredibly funny too. I don’t.

“I don’t do love, you know that.”

Or he should. I don’t even turn to see his reaction, just continue walking away.

One more date. Two tops. Then she’s mine. Forever.

I’ll have plenty of time to dwell on stuff I don’t understand then. But it’s very unlikely I’ll ever fall in love with her. Like I told him. I don’t do love. It’s an emotion I don’t know how to feel.