Chapter 10
“We need to get them here so we can talk, but don’t tell them I’m back,” I tell Spencer as we head back to the kitchen. The smell of coffee fills the room, and I can’t help but stop and breathe it in.
Fuck, I love coffee. I went without it most of my life, but since being with the guys, I realized what I was missing out on.
“Why can’t I say you're here?” Spencer asks, cocking a brow as he pulls two coffee cups from the cabinet. Pouring us both a cup without me even asking.
Wow, all you got to do is fuck a guy, and suddenly he’s nice. Who knew?
“Wipe that smile off your face before I dump it down the drain,” he teases, and I laugh, knowing he’s full of shit. I snatch the mug from his outstretched hand, blowing him a kiss as he rolls his eyes.
“Because, like I said, the game has changed, and the new players raised the stakes. We need to work smarter. One of the biggest advantages we have right now is that they don’t know I’m here or what I know.
We need to keep it that way,” I tell him before guzzling down the coffee he handed me.
It’s still warm, but not scalding hot anymore, thanks to our time spent distracted.
“Yeah, that’s not cryptic,” he says, and I hear his annoyance at the lack of information.
“Calm down. I’ll explain once everyone’s here.” I watch as he bites back his urge to argue. Instead, nodding before pulling his phone out of his pocket.
This will take some getting used to.
“Getting Rick, Trent, and Jake here should be easy enough,” he says as his fingers fly across the screen in a familiar way I could never achieve.
I’d become used to carrying my phone with me for the few weeks I had it.
The guys made sure of that. But I’m still nowhere near a master, let alone confident with it.
Maybe I’ll have him show me how to use it better later.
If anyone would know, I’d imagine it’s Spencer.
“But not Zan and Daddy?” I ask, picking up on what he didn’t say.
Spencer arches a brow at me at the use of my nickname for Kratos, but I shrug it off. I happen to like that nickname, and I know damn well Kratos has no objections to it, so Spencer and the rest of them will just have to get over it.
With a sigh, he lets it go, returning his attention to his phone. “Kratos is in a meeting he’s been waiting on all week, so I doubt he’ll be accessible until it’s over.”
“And Zander?” I press, stepping toward him, seeing his brows draw together. Whatever he isn’t saying isn’t something he seems to want to share.
“Spencer.” My voice is hard and demanding as my brain goes to worst-case scenarios. I know for a fact that they released him from the hospital. It was the first thing I checked after my little talk with Leo.
Spencer’s eyes snap up at my tone, but instead of their usual anger, he looks concerned, like a kid who got caught misbehaving.
Some of the tension drops from my shoulders as I let out a deep breath of relief. Whatever he’s trying to hide isn’t about Zander’s health, which is what I was worried about.
“For the love of God, just spit it out. Whatever it is, we can handle it, I’m sure, but you had me worried he was dead or something,” I tell him, rubbing a hand down my face in frustration.
I’d spent so much time worried about him while I was gone that I guess the fear still had its claws in me.
With a deep breath, I settle my racing thoughts on what we need to deal with right now.
“What?” I snap when I find Spencer staring at me as if he’d never seen me before.
He shakes his head, sliding his phone back into his pocket with a smile. “Nothing, I just didn’t take you as a worrier,” he says with a smirk that has me itching to reach out and smack him upside the head.
Asshole.
“Whatever. Like you're one to talk!” I say with a smile of my own as I step into his space. He tilts his head down to keep our eyes locked together in challenge, and I feel the heat of his gaze in a whole new way.
Before, when we argued, it was all for fun. At least for me, it was. Now it’s like that heat in his eyes has a direct line to my pussy. I fight the urge to clench my thighs against the building need I feel.
I’ll be damned if I let him know the effect he has on me. At least not right now.
Reaching up, I run my hand along the stubble on his jaw, watching his eyes as they narrow in understanding.
I push up on my tiptoes, pressing my lips to his cheek.
“You didn’t seem to be doing so hot yourself,” I whisper, my lips still pressed against his stubble.
The feel of it almost tickles, but I push through.
Spencer, unfortunately, isn’t able to do the same and shivers as my breath ghosts over his skin.
I let a smile split my face, knowing I’m not the only one affected.
“Watch it, Demon,” Spencer warns, but there's no heat to his words. At least not the kind he usually has with me.
Damn, I want to push him, but now is not the time.
I take a step back, even as my body begs me to move into him.
“So, where is Zander?” I ask, bringing us back to a safer topic.
“He’s at the club,” he says without meeting my eyes, and I know there’s more he isn’t saying.
“And?” I urge when it’s clear he isn’t going to say more.
He groans and sweeps his fingers through his hair, making it stand up all over the place even worse than it was before. “Fuck, Rick’s probably going to have my ass for this,” he says more to himself than me before he turns and tops off his cup of coffee.
“He’s at the club, down in the shed’s lower levels, beating the shit out of anyone who might have even a hope of giving us some kind of information about how to find you,” he says in a rush. I’m not sure if he’s worried about Rick or me with the way his eyes keep darting from me back to his coffee.
“He’s just casually beating people up and letting them go after?” I ask, a frown pulling at my lips as I try to imagine that scenario. It doesn’t sound right, not for Zander and not for Vengeance. Neither tends to let people go so easily.
“You know he isn’t,” Spencer says, leveling me with a stare that only further confirms my suspicions.
My stomach does a flip, and I get a weird, jittery feeling in my stomach at the thought that he would go to such lengths to find me, especially after being shot so recently.
Spencer’s nervousness melts away before my eyes as he watches me take in this information.
“Are you blushing?”
I quickly slap my hands over my cheeks, shaking my head, but it’s useless. I can feel how warm my face is, so I can only imagine how red I must be.
Damn it.
“Shut up,” I shout, turning away from him and heading out into the living room. His laughter rings after me as he hurries to catch up with me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh before. He has a nice laugh, one that I might enjoy if he were laughing at anyone else.
I head to the front door, fling it open, and step out into the cool night breeze. It’s getting colder as fall comes to a close, but it feels good on my overheated skin.
“Where are you going?” Spencer calls as he continues after me, but I ignore him, heading toward the garage. The damn thing is massive, bigger than most places I’ve lived. It blows my mind that it’s only meant to house vehicles.
I drop my hands from my face to push open the side door. The whole place is pitch-black, and since I don’t spend much time here, I have no idea where the light switch is. Instead of waiting for Spencer, I feel blindly around, probably looking ridiculous, but I’m determined to get away from him.
The lights flicker to life, and I wince at the sudden bright light as it bounces off every surface around me. When my eyes are properly functioning again, I find Spencer on the opposite side of the door from me with a smirk on his face and his hand on the switch.
Well, I’d know where the switches were, too, if it were my house.
“Are you going to answer me?” he asks, and the cockiness in his tone almost has me flipping him off.
If only I knew where the keys were.
“Going to get Zan and Kratos,” I tell him as I make my way further into the garage, past the cars and over to where I know they keep their bikes. They all have their own, because of course they do, but Kratos and Zander seem to favor them, while the rest of the guys prefer their cars and SUVs.
“And how exactly were you planning on doing that? Last I checked, you didn’t know how to drive.”
“Wrong,” I call back, holding up a finger to correct him as I stop in front of a blue bike. I have no idea of its make or model, but I’d bet it’s fast as fuck just by the look of it. “I can’t drive a car,” I correct him as I throw my leg over it, straddling the seat.
It’s not a perfect fit for me, being on the shorter side. My feet just barely reach the ground, but it will have to do. Most things aren’t made for short people anyway.
“What?” He pulls a face, and it’s enough to draw a laugh from me. I seem to be confusing him a lot today. “When did Zan have time to teach you to ride?” he asks, making me laugh harder.
“Zan didn’t teach me,” I tell him once I get myself under control again.
“Kratos did. Back when we first met, he had a little piece-of-shit bike he was working on. Nothing special, but it ran, and with his father being the asshole he was, he didn’t have a car.
It would have given him too much freedom.
And we all know how important freedom is to keep from people we want under our thumb.
” My anger leaks into each word, and I don’t even try to hide it.
I’m sure Spencer knows how I must feel about Kratos’s father, given the fact that I killed him.
“Anyway, after everything happened with his father, I spent a few days with him, and he showed me his bike. I could see the love he had for it, and the next time I visited, he had fixed it up even more and insisted I learn to ride. So I did.”
I shake my head at the memory. It had been a ridiculous idea.
The odds of me being able to get my hands on a bike if I ever needed to run were slim to none, but he’d insisted.
Eventually, I caved, knowing all he wanted was to keep me safe in any way he could.
It was simple enough, so I indulged him.
Back then, our friendship was new, saving them was new, and I knew any day could be my last, but he gave me hope.
Who knew it would ever come in handy?
“Where are the keys?” I ask, watching him for any hint of where they might be. He keeps his eyes trained on me, too smart for his own good.
“When’s the last time you drove one of these?
” he questions, narrowing his eyes at me, and I roll mine in response.
Just weeks ago, he would have happily let me do whatever I wanted.
If I ended up smeared on the pavement, he would have said it was my own damn fault.
Leave it to him to care now that I actually need to go somewhere.
“Spencer, just give me the keys. We need to get them here so I can fill everyone in and talk about what we're going to do moving forward,” I press, trying to appeal to his need for information.
“Just let me drive you,” he insists, but I’m already shaking my head before he can even finish suggesting it.
“No, you already told Rick and the others to meet you here. What are they going to think if they show up and nobody’s here?” I ask, and he growls in frustration, knowing I’m right.
“Fine!” he shouts, stomping over to one of the toolboxes. Flinging the top drawer open, he pulls out a single key on a ring and tosses it to me. I snag it out of the air with ease, smiling at him as he stomps back to me while I start the bike.
It roars to life, and I can’t help but rev the engine, feeling it rumble between my legs. Spencer was right to question the last time I rode. It’s been a long time, but I’ll be fine.
What’s that saying?
It’s like riding a bike; once you know, you never forget.
Yes, I know the saying isn’t actually for a motorcycle, but oh well, we're going with it.
Spencer’s lips slam into mine so hard that I would have fallen off the damn bike.
Thankfully, he holds me up, winding his hand into my hair to pull me to him.
His lips are hard and unforgiving; his hold is tight.
Yet somehow, it all still feels soft and caring in a way I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to with him.
He pulls back, leaving me breathless, but doesn’t go far.
Pressing his forehead against my own, we both take a few deep breaths of shared air, and I have to adjust how I’m seated on the bike.
If he notices, he doesn’t say, or maybe he just thinks it's from the bike. It’s not.
The engine's purr feels good between my legs, but his demanding kiss leaves my panties wet.
“You'd better make it in one piece. You go there, get them, and get back. No side shit, no getting snatched up again, no dying,” he says, his voice loud enough to be heard over the bike and full of demand that would usually make me rise to challenge him, but not this time.
Instead, I nod because, as much as I might enjoy arguing with him, this isn’t something I want to argue about. I want to get there and get back so that we can get this shit all figured out, together.
“I’m serious, Demon,” he says, pulling back to look me in the eye, and I can see his concern.
“I know you are, asshole,” I tell him with a smile before I give him a little shove back.
He releases my hair and goes easily enough, but his eyes stay locked on me.
I still feel his gaze even as the door rises to let me out, and I kick up the kickstand.
A helmet is in front of my face the next second, so close that it almost bumps into my nose, and I go cross-eyed looking at it.
“Hide your hair,” he says before backing away quickly when I grab it. But he’s not quick enough. He can say what he wants, but he’s worried, and it’s kind of fucking adorable, honestly.
I throw my hair into a messy bun to keep it in the helmet, then slide it on. Flipping the visor up, I look back, winking at him as he damn near stares a hole in my head. With a flick of the visor, I peel out of the garage before I can overthink this.
For about two seconds, I feel like I might puke or fall over. Hell, maybe both. The urge passes quickly, and before I even hit the tree line, I let out a little whoop of excitement as I push the bike faster down the winding driveway.
The saying might not have been meant for motorcycles, but it fits just fine if you ask me.
Now, off to get two of my missing pieces.