Chapter 13 #2
“Look, man. I been at this thing for a long time. One of the reasons why I’m still breathing is the fact that I keep my head down and mind my business. I’m sorry, but I don’t know shit about the guy.”
“Then, tell me what the fuck you do know.”
“Just know that we’re supposed to meet up with him at the old Turner plant on the last Sunday of every month.” He shrugged. “Used to be that we’d grab our shit and go, but the Widow likes to run his fucking mouth and do what he can to shake us up or whatever.”
“And everyone is there?”
“Everyone ’cept Scar and Mathews, but they’re always watching. You can bet your ass on that one.” His tone was full of warning. “You need to really think about this, man. This isn’t a game you can win.”
“The Sinners don’t play games, but if we did, we’d win every fucking time.”
I stayed there for another half hour, making sure I had everything I needed to know about the Punishers’ upcoming meet with the man they called the Widow Maker.
Once I was confident, I called Viper and let him in on what I’d learned.
While I wanted to be at the clubhouse to add in my own input, I had no doubt that he and Menace would be able to work together to figure out the best plan of action.
By the time I started walking back to Ada’s, it was well after ten.
I figured Ada and Remington had already gone to bed, so I grabbed me a drink from the fridge and headed into the living room to watch the news.
When I walked in, I found the TV on and Remington curled up on the sofa.
Fuck. I didn’t know how long I stood there staring at her, marveling at how beautiful she looked lying there with the glow of the TV illuminating her angelic face before I finally walked over and picked up the remote.
I turned off the TV and was surprised when Remington fussed, “Hey, I was watching that.”
“You were sleeping.”
“No, I was resting my eyes.” She pulled her blanket up to her chin with a huff. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish watching my movie.”
“Suit yourself.”
It was clear that she was pissed about earlier, and I couldn’t really blame her. I kissed her, then stormed out without any explanation. I could’ve taken the time to sort things out with her, but instead, I simply turned on the TV and sat down in the recliner.
Neither of us said a word as we stared blankly at the television screen, pretending to listen to the rumbling of the characters in the movie. I didn’t care what they were saying. I had other things on my mind.
I should’ve been thinking about the conversation I’d had earlier with Viper, and how he and my brothers were planning to end this shit-storm we had going with the Punishers, but there was only one thing consuming my thoughts–the woman lying across from me on the sofa.
I was at a loss. I didn’t know what the hell to do about her.
A part of me wanted to grab her up and carry her to my room, devour her, claim her body as my own.
I wanted to show her how she’d been driving me wild, but I couldn’t move.
Doubts were creeping into the crevices of my mind, making me wonder how I was going to survive this thing with her.
I looked at her and all I saw was good. She was just so very fucking good, strong and determined with no idea just how fucked up I really was.
Anyone could see that she deserved someone who could take care of her, love her, and treat her as the incredible woman she was.
I knew deep down I couldn’t be the man she needed me to be, and yet I hadn’t gotten up and left the room.
I was still sitting there just so I could be close to her. Damn.
Several long minutes went by before Remington finally lifted her head and turned to look back at me. “Have you seen this movie before?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Me neither.” She rested her head back down on the sofa cushion. “I’m a little lost. I think I might’ve missed something.”
“Probably when you were sleeping.”
“I wasn’t sleeping, jack-nut. I was just—”
“I know.” I chuckled. “You were resting your eyes.”
“Exactly. Regardless, I still missed something.” She sat up on the sofa, and I knew the second I saw that mischievous look in her eye that she was up to no good. “Is there a back way out of here?”
“Not sure what you mean.”
“Is there a way for us to leave without anyone seeing us?”
“Yeah.” Curious to know what she was thinking, I asked, “Why?”
“When I was outside earlier, I saw your motorcycle. I’ve never ridden before, and I...I thought you might take me for a quick ride.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“Why?”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“But it’s dark out, and I’d be wearing a helmet.
It’s not like anyone would see me.” She studied me for a moment, and when she saw that she was getting to me, she pushed a little harder.
“Come on, Noah. I’ve been locked up for days, and I just want to get out of here for a little while. It’d really mean a lot to me.”
I’d always ridden solo, and for good reason. In my world, it meant something to have someone on the back of your bike, and I hadn’t had anyone I cared enough about to even consider putting on the back of my bike—until now.