Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
His sled rumbled between his thighs as Zeke pulled to a stop in front of Kyra’s place.
After shutting it down, he dragged a hand through his hair, only to discover all the fucking knots he’d have to deal with later since he didn’t take the time to cover his head with a skull cap like he normally did.
He hadn’t wanted to waste any time catching up to her. But what he discovered rushing after her had been the actual waste: her Kia wasn’t parked in the driveway.
“For fuck’s sake!”
He pulled his cell phone from the inside pocket of his cut, stabbed at her contact info, then put the phone to his ear.
It rang.
Rang again.
Then rang once more before sending him to voicemail.
Of fucking course it did.
He left a short and to the point message. “Where the fuck are you?” He stabbed the screen, slipped it back inside his cut, and restarted his custom Low Rider.
The only consistent girl in his life has always been the one he currently straddled.
No goddamn bitching, just purring.
No drama, just a smooth fucking ride.
If Kyra wasn’t home, then…
Since Ledger hadn’t been with her and he was too young to be in school, she was probably picking him up from the person watching him.
He could’ve been at either Kyra’s parents’ or her brother’s. Because she mentioned moving back to Shadow Valley so she’d have her family’s help and support.
He’d go to her parents’ house next. Hopefully they hadn’t moved in the past four years.
As he twisted Black Betty’s throttle and roared down the street, it hit him that it might not be the smartest decision to confront her at her family’s place.
Fuck it. He’d been known to step in shit.
Often.
If nothing else, he could do a drive-by and see if her cage was there.
In less than five minutes, he was on her parents’ block. He let off the throttle and coasted past the house. Of course, he and his sled stood out like a flashing beacon in suburbia-land.
What-fucking-ever. He had every right to be on a public road.
Even so, her white Sportage wasn’t parked in front of their house. No cages were.
Goddamn it.
He’d only been to her brother’s house once before and it was over six years ago for a barbecue. He couldn’t remember where the fuck he lived, but someone else might know, and if she didn’t, she had the methods to find out.
He pulled over to the curb, yanked out his cell phone, and called Vi.
“What?”
He frowned at her annoyed greeting. “Kyra’s brother…”
“Yeah?”
“Where’s he live?”
“Why?”
A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ! Don’t answer my question with another fuckin’ question, answer the one I asked!”
She cackled into the phone. “You don’t get to order me around, cuz.”
“You remember where he lives?”
“Of course I do.”
“Where?” he barked.
“What’s that information worth to you?”
“Are you fuckin’ serious, woman?” His fingers itched to strangle her.
A sigh filled his ear. “Hang on. I think the info’s still in my phone.”
“Hurry the fuck up!” he shouted.
“Holy shit! Do you think you’re in a position to make demands?”
“It’s important.”
“Why?”
“For fuck’s sake, Vi!” He scraped a hand through his hair, and by doing that, he was quickly reminded how fucked up it was when his fingers got snagged in tangles. If he had to cut his fucking hair to remove the knots, he’d be pissed.
Vi rattled off an address. He tried to memorize it, but to be safe… “Text it to me.”
“You owe me.”
“Whatever, Vi.”
A loud kissing sound filled his ear. “Love you, too, cuz.”
Holding the phone in a tight grip so he wouldn’t throw it, he stabbed the “End Call” button and stared at the screen. Two seconds later, a text popped up with the needed info.
He saved it to memory, tucked his phone back in his cut, and raced in that direction.
Zeke did a slow-roll past her brother’s house.
No fucking surprise she was there.
That meant Zeke’s son was also there. And that Ky’s brother was probably home.
He really didn’t want a confrontation with anyone in her family. Not if he wanted a chance to convince Kyra to give him a second shot.
In the cul-de-sac at the end of the street, Zeke did a one-eighty and headed back toward Rob’s house. It would be smarter to go back to Ky’s and wait for her there.
But it was goddamn hard to sneak out of the area when his Harley had straight pipes. While he loved the growl of his exhaust, it gave him no way to be stealthy. They probably heard him coming a fucking mile away.
Of course that meant Kyra and her brother now stood out front, watching him motor up the street.
Fuckin’ busted.
The guy’s house wasn’t an area where he’d be able to use the “just in the neighborhood” excuse. Fuck no. The only people who entered that housing development were people with a damn good reason to be there.
And his reason was glaring at him.
He shouldn’t stop. Not with her older brother standing next to her. Rob had never been fucking shy about how much he hated Kyra being with Zeke, so he was probably livid once he found out why Kyra ran away.
When he thought about it, Zeke was surprised Rob never paid him a visit after Kyra left. Zeke’s guess? Her brother probably wanted to hide the fact she was pregnant from him. Because if Zeke would’ve known, he would’ve relentlessly searched for Ky and been there when Ledger was born. Guaranteed.
That meant Rob could fuck right off. Zeke didn’t give a single fuck about what her brother thought of him.
But what Zeke wasn’t expecting was Rob to sprint into the street and make him swerve so sharply to avoid hitting him that he almost wiped out.
The second he skidded to a stop and swallowed his pounding heart back down into his chest, he was yanked off his sled by his cut and thrown to the ground.
Despite hearing his beloved Black Betty fall to the pavement, he didn’t take his eyes off the immediate threat.
“You fucking son of a bitch!”
Zeke ducked his head as a fist came flying. Unfortunately, before he could finish getting to his feet, a second swing made contact and snapped his head backward.
Goddamn!
“Stay the fuck away from my sister.” Without taking eyes off Zeke, Rob called over his shoulder. “Call the cops, Ky.”
Kyra rushed over. “I’m not calling the cops! They’ll arrest you for assault, you idiot!”
“Hit me,” Rob taunted, spreading his feet and holding up his fists. “Hit me, you fucking piece of shit.”
Zeke was itching to oblige, but he was doing his best to keep his rage under control. Normally, he wouldn’t hesitate to jump on a challenge like that.
He reminded himself that he was supposed to be working on being a better person. And a better person didn’t beat the shit out of his woman’s brother. Especially when she was standing right fucking there.
If it had been anyone other than Ky’s brother putting his hands on him, though…
All fucking bets would be off. That motherfucker would regret laying down his custom ride and Zeke would be taking another state-sanctioned vacation.
Instead, Zeke used his hand to shift his jaw around, making sure it wasn’t dislocated.
Good thing the man had never been in the joint to learn how to actually punch in what was a live-or-die type of fighting. “Cheap motherfuckin’ shot.”
Rob waggled his fingers at him. “I’m giving you permission to swing at me.”
Zeke widened his stance and his fingers curled into his palms.
“No, Rob! Go in the house! I’ll handle this.”
“C’mon, you cheating asshole. You think you’re so tough when you got an army of bikers at your back, but by yourself, you’re just chicken shit.”
Zeke filled his lungs and held it until it burned.
Don’t take the fuckin’ bait. As much as you fuckin’ want to. Don’t fuckin’ do it. “Don’t give a shit what you thinka me.”
“Rob! Go check on Ledger. Please.” She even stomped her foot for emphasis. When her brother didn’t move—and continued to stare down Zeke—Kyra shoved him toward the house and pointed. “Go inside. This is not your fight, Rob. It’s mine.”
“You’re my sister.”
“And your sister is asking you to stand down!” she yelled right in his face.
Rob’s chest expanded slowly, then just as slowly contracted. “I’m going to watch from the window. He steps out of line…” He let that warning hang.
With a growl and a shake of his head, Rob finally turned and took choppy strides back to the middle-class, boring-as-fuck, two-story house.
Zeke flicked a two-finger salute at his retreating ass, then turned to face Kyra. Before he could say a damn word, she said, “That must’ve been a quickie with Bubbles.”
“Didn’t do shit with her.” He hauled his heavy-as-fuck sled back up onto its wheels, rolled it from the middle of the street to the curb, and inspected the damage.
One of his matte-black exhaust pipes would need to be replaced and some minor scratches on his custom-painted gas tank would need to be fixed, but at least he didn’t see any major damage.
Still…he should’ve punched that asshole solely on principle.
“Bet you have plenty of times before, though.”
Kyra had never been jealous. At least, not until that fateful fucking night that messed everything up between them.
With a shake of his head, he said, “Sounds like you don’t want me but don’t want anyone else to have me, either.”
With a sharp intake of breath, she suddenly stood nose-to-nose with him. Her eyes were sharp and her expression even sharper as she spit out, “You can fuck whomever you want, Zeke. I…don’t…fucking…care!”
He pressed his lips together and dug deep to keep his temper in check. “Apparently you do, babe.”
That truth must have hit hard because with the blood drained from her face, she stepped back and threw up her hands. “I figured you’d want to do better, Zeke. For Ledger. For yourself. I don’t think you’ll ever change.”
Fuck. That last part was dripping with disappointment. And that got him in the chest more than her being pissed off.