Chapter 7
Quinn
I stared at the mirror for a long time as I glared at my outfit. I had already tried on four different things; I hated all of them the moment I put them on. This time, I went with a short-sleeved purple shirt with a cute skull on the front and a black skirt with leather boots that went up to my calves. To be truthful, I wasn’t sure what to wear. Sure, Tokyo’s Best was a nice restaurant, but it wasn’t a wear your most expensive dress type of place. I didn’t want to overdress, but I didn’t want to underdress either.
A text alert went off. It was Keith; he was waiting outside. Frantically, I slathered on some lipstick, grabbed my purse, and dashed out the door as fast as my four-inch heels would allow me. A grin spread across my face when I saw him; of course, he was on his bike. He hadn’t donned his vest. Instead, he wore a long-sleeved grey shirt with a skull on the front and a pair of blue jeans. I blushed a little when I realized we matched. “You aren’t wearing your vest,” I pointed out.
He grinned, and those jade-green eyes of his sparkled. “First of all, it’s called a cut. And this isn’t club business, so I don’t have to be in uniform. We never wear our cuts unless there is more than one of us because someone may want to start shit.” Reaching into one of his saddle bags, he pulled out a white helmet with black flames and a black hoodie. “It’s going to be chilly; you should put that on.”
“I can go get my jacket,” I offered.
He grinned. “I’d like to see you in something of mine.”
I couldn’t control the blush that rushed to my face. I didn’t want him to poke fun at my reaction, so I yanked it on and strapped on the helmet. It was awkward. After a few moments of fumbling, Keith had to help me. My skin tingled every time his fingers brushed against my skin. The hoodie was huge; I was practically swimming in it. The damned thing went way past my knees, and forget about finding my hands. With a large and very sexy grin, Keith leaned forward against the motorcycle tank like he did the first time I rode with him. I had to be careful with my footing. I didn’t have Taven to come to my rescue.
The moment I was mounted, we were off. He wasn’t kidding when he said it would be chilly. Even with the hoodie, I felt frozen to the bone in the fresh autumn breeze. Luckily, it was no more than a ten-minute drive. He leaned forward again and held his hand out for me to grab as I dismounted. My hand was so tiny in his.
When he got off the bike, he stored the helmet and hoodie in the saddle bag before taking my hand and escorting me into the building.
“Is there anything here that isn’t sushi?” I asked, perusing the menu.
He cocked his head. “I thought you liked sushi.”
“I’ve never had it, to be honest. I just don’t think I can eat raw fish.”
He broke into laughter and said, “It’s not raw fish. Sashimi is raw fish. Sushi is just how it’s rolled. Sometimes it’s cooked or even deep fried.” He tapped his finger on his stubbled chin. “I think. I can’t remember why sushi is sushi.” He shrugged. “Google it.”
Shaking my head, I pushed my menu back to him. “Fine, order for me.”
Running his finger gently over his lower lip, he eyed me briefly before looking down at the menu, marked a few things on a paper, and then handed it to the waitress. Moments later, something caught his eye, and he scowled. “Fucking piggies.”
Confused, I turned my head to see what he was glaring at. A cop had just entered the restaurant. However, that wasn’t what caught my attention. It was what he called the man. He called him Piggie, not Pig or another slang word. It was the same thing the killer wrote. Just as quickly as the thought came, I pushed it into the back of my mind. He wasn’t the killer. I was sure many other people used that term; I just wasn’t used to hearing it. “You don’t like cops?”
He chuckled, “I’m an outlaw. What do you think?”
I raised an eyebrow. “An outlaw who just goes around telling everyone he is one?”
He slapped on that sexy grin again, then pointed to the tattoo next to his eye. “It’s literally inked on my face.”
As we waited for our food, we chit-chatted for a bit, mostly about dumb things. Come to find out, we both lived in this shit hole of a city our entire lives. He was three years older than me, which was why we didn’t meet in school. That, and the fact that he quit in tenth grade. He went on to explain he had gotten his GED and then went to trade school. Apparently, he owned his own business doing handyman work. However, with the current economy, work was slow.
When the waitress brought out our food, I looked down at it, mildly afraid of what I’d find. Picking up my chopsticks, I broke them apart and picked up a piece. I was an expert at using chopsticks; Luke and I had always dreamed of going to Japan one day, so I had made it my business to learn how to use them. If I wanted to live that dream, I shouldn’t be afraid to try sushi.
Sticking it in my mouth, I moaned slightly. It had only touched my tongue for a few seconds, yet it felt like every tastebud had flowered to life. There was such a mix-match of flavors that I was almost sorry I had to swallow it. Keith didn’t hesitate to chow down on his own dish. It looked almost exactly like mine. I wondered if he got me the same thing but decided not to ask. When we were finished eating, he waved the waitress down and asked for the check.
“I got this,” he assured, setting his debit card into the tray.
I smiled. “How chivalrous.”
Shrugging, he got to his feet. “It would be pretty shitty of me to invite you out and make you pay. Plus, I wanna get out of here and see that apartment of yours.”
I could only grin. We headed to his bike and returned to my apartment; the ride was even colder in the night air. I cringed as I got off, looking at the three men sitting on the stoop.
Turning to Keith, I put my hand on his chest. “I don’t think parking your bike here is a good idea. You may return to nothing but a windshield,” I whispered.
Ignoring me, he got off the bike and walked up to the stoop. He pulled something out of his pocket. A gun. I took a hesitant step back. “Any one of you bitches touch my bike, I’ll fucking kill you.” His eyes landed on the man in the middle, a smile curling his lips. “If there is so much as a smudge on my bike when I get back, Greg, I’ll pop a hole right between your eyes.”
The man addressed as Greg stuttered, “Nobody’s going to mess with your shit, man.” He glanced away like a dog backing down from a challenge.
Keith grinned and gestured to me. “And if any of you ever fuck with her, or her shit…” He trailed off, making pew, pew, pew sounds when he raised the barrel to point at each of them.
Undoubtedly, my eyes were wide, and my mouth was hanging open a little. I couldn’t figure out if I was afraid or aroused.
“Don’t worry, Sweet Pea, he knows better than to fuck with me. Don’t ya, Greg?”
The man looked away again. “You don’t have to worry about anything, Keith.”
Grinning with a full set of pearly whites on display, Keith put his pistol back in his pocket. “So, you gonna show me this apartment?”