Chapter 3
REID (RATCHET)
This fucking night.
I flexed my grip on the rubber knife handle and twisted the blade a little.
The pain would do him some good. Give him an incentive to make the right decision.
He stared straight ahead but reached underneath the seat and pulled out the bag of money.
Impressive that a man with his girth was relatively flexible.
“How much does he owe you?” I peeked over at Becky.
She leaned forward, taking in the scene as if she were watching a movie.
I expected to see fear in her eyes, but the violence didn’t scare her.
She’d seen it all before, and that made me sad for her.
Yeah, fear wasn’t in her vocabulary. She seemed more annoyed than anything.
Annoyed and beautiful. The wind whipped her curly hair into her face.
She tucked it behind her ear and stood with her hands on her slim waist. The ill-fitting, baggy pink-and-white waitress uniform did nothing for her sexy figure.
Her perfect tits rubbed up against me when I hugged her to me, and I couldn’t help but notice her firm ass and curved hips when she sat on my lap.
My cock sprang to attention the moment I laid eyes on her.
Her soulful hazel eyes did something to me. But she was young, barely eighteen if I had to guess.
Patrick was right. She looked familiar, but in a woman you see in your dreams type of way. But when you run into her in real life, the strongest sense of déjà vu smacks you in the face.
“Business has been slow.” He counted out a few bills.
“Good thing my crew pulled in when they did and made your week.” I grabbed the bag and pulled out about a third of the wad of hundreds and shoved the rest back in the bag. I slid out of the van and shut the door behind me.
The passenger side door window was already down.
“Have a good night.” I saluted him with the knife.
He snickered at me and then turned to Becky.
“I’ll see you on Tuesday,” he whispered with a tone like he would settle with her later.
“Fuck you,” she yelled, turned on her heels, and stomped back into the diner.
Murray stared after her. I tapped the van with the tip of my knife and then swirled the tip around, gesturing for him to leave.
He narrowed his eyes, whispered something under his breath, and peeled out, kicking up dust in his wake.
I sheathed my knife and knocked the dust off my cut.
I headed back into the diner, ready to tell Becky no way was she returning to this hellhole, when she appeared in the doorway with a backpack slung over her shoulder and her hand out.
I pressed the folded bills into her hand. She spun on her heels and retreated through the diner.
“Wait.” I followed her into the kitchen and a small staff area in the back. She grabbed a few more things from the open locker. It took her two tries to shove the back door open, and she stumbled out into the alley.
A few feet from the exit sat an old, beat-up, brown-and-tan van. It looked straight out of the seventies, but it had new wheels. She yanked open the sliding door and shoved the money into a compartment behind the passenger seat. The back of the van had a leather bench along one side.
“Nice van.”
She spun around, holding her hands out in front of her.
“Sorry.” I held my hands out to the side. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t,” she spat at me. Her eyes darted around.
“Do you have someplace to go?” Clearly, she slept in the van.
“I’ll be fine.” She opened the passenger door and placed her backpack on the seat, then buckled it in. Why did I find that adorable?
“You do understand you can’t come back here.” I stepped back to give her some room.
“Wasn’t planning on it.” She slammed the door and turned back toward me.
I usually got a good read on people, but this girl was a mystery.
Too pretty and innocent to be in a place like Happy Pennsylvania, population five hundred.
Too smart to be working for under the counter cash for a guy like Murray.
If he hurt her, I’d kill him.
“I’m fine. You can go now.”
Did she just dismiss me? Sassy little thing, too.
“Nope, sorry, I can’t until I know you’ll be okay.” I stepped forward, and she crossed her arms over her chest but didn’t move out of the way. She didn’t slap me either, so I took it as a win.
“Listen, I’m sure you didn’t plan to move on so soon or unexpectedly, and I feel responsible.” I held my hand over my heart. “There’s a hotel in the next town that’s decent. Has a hot shower and room—” The look of pure disgust made me stop mid-sentence.
“You have got to be kidding.” She stomped forward. I backpedaled out of her reach. “Who do you think you are? You think I’m going to be so grateful to be saved by you I’d go to some hotel with you?”
“I—”
“Oh, what, you didn’t mean it like that?” She poked me in the chest with her tiny finger. “You just want to keep me safe. Make sure I’m okay. Fuck off.” She dismissed me with a hand wave of her hand and rounded the van to the driver’s side.
She slid into the seat and shut the door behind her. The engine turned right over, and she slammed it into drive and peeled off. Once again, I was left cleaning dirt off my jacket.
I watched the light of her van disappear around the side of the building and onto the highway.
I walked back into the diner through the break room. She’d left the doors unlocked, the light on. Fuck it. I hoped someone would rob the place.
I walked around, not sure what I was looking for. In the cubbyhole she had emptied, I spotted a leather-bound journal up against the side. I pulled it out and flipped to the front cover.
The property of page wasn’t filled out. Instead, it was a sketch in black ink of a little girl holding hands with a woman. It was rudimentary but moving. I flipped through a few pages. The journal was covered with words and more drawings filled with emotion and pain.
I hated to think how upset she would be once she discovered she had forgotten it. Some things couldn’t be replaced.
I walked back through the diner and out the front. Sliding the journal into the compartment beneath the seat, I climbed onto my bike. After one last look down the highway, I started the engine and pulled onto the road.
I went full throttle, hoping she hadn’t pulled off somewhere before I could catch up with her.
At the exit of the hotel off the highway I had mentioned, I spotted her van pulling into the parking lot.
I followed her as she pulled around back, where some other vans and RVs were parked.
She picked a corner next to the building, close enough to block off one side of her van from unexpected visitors.
She was smart, and at least she had some sense of self-preservation.
Although I wasn’t happy about her camping out in her van.
She stepped out of the van with her backpack slung over her shoulder, then ducked between two fences into the pool area.
I drove around to the front and parked my bike.
I grabbed the journal and my bag and walked into the lobby.
It wasn’t late, but the place was empty except for a bored older woman behind the front desk scrolling through her phone.
The place smelled clean and looked newish.
She hopped off her stool when I approached.
“Welcome to the Happy Hotel. Checking in?”
“Yeah.” I grabbed my wallet and driver’s license. “Do you have a room available overlooking the back parking lot?”
“Sure.” She drew out the word but didn’t ask.
“Figured it would be quieter, away from the highway.” I shrugged. “I’m a light sleeper.”
It seemed to satisfy her.
“I’ll put you in 507. Farthest away from the highway.” She smiled up at me and handed me my key card. “Elevators are back there.” She pointed down a hallway.
“Thank you.” I eyed the sign that said pool. “Is there a locker room near the pool?”
“Yes, sir. With showers and towels.” She frowned. “But the pool closed at eight, though.”
I bet I’d find Becky in there. She was resourceful too.
“I’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” I nodded and made my way up to my room.
The door opened into a small hallway that led to a simple room. Again, the place seemed new, but they didn’t splurge on anything flashy. A bed, two nightstands. The most modern thing in the room was the flat-screen television on the wall, and a coffeemaker sat on top of the mini-refrigerator.
I dropped my stuff and went over to the window. I opened it and leaned out.
Perfect. I had an unobstructed view of Becky’s van from this angle.
It gave me some sense of peace I could look out for her, even if it was from a distance.
I spotted her shuffling back to her van in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, with the hood covering her face.
She hopped into the driver’s side door and then proceeded to cover her windows with a metallic covering. She was in for the night.
I needed a shower and some food but couldn’t pull my eyes away from her. I ordered room service and watched until my food arrived.
I ate my sandwich and flipped through her journal.
I felt a little guilty about going through her private stuff, but if it gave me more insight into who she was, it was all worth it.
Besides, I wasn’t reading it. Just checking out the sketches.
She had an eye for detail, like the wrinkles on the side of an older woman’s face or the highlights in the hair of a young boy.
I fanned through a few pages and was about to put it away when I noticed the inside of the back cover.
It was a logo drawn precisely as if she’d created it herself.
The shaded skull with the infinity symbol in the shape of a snake weaved through the eyes.
It had motion and a certain creepiness to it.
I knew the drawing well. It was the same drawing on my cut.
I crossed the room to my jacket laid over a chair. I held it up and threw it flat on the bed. I grabbed the book.
Yep, exactly like the logo for the Infinity Kings.
The club I had wanted to be a part of since I was five years old.
Both Patrick and I were honorary kings before we could drive.
Our formative years were spent at the clubhouse.
By fifteen, we were already prospects—a formality, really, since Patrick’s father ran the club and mine had once been president.
At sixteen, we were full-fledged members.
Being an Infinity King was my dream. I wanted to continue my father’s legacy.
By the time I turned eighteen, I discovered that joining the Infinity King was the worst mistake of my life.