Chapter Eleven
Kinsley
Colt asked Patrick to take Marisol home rather than her walking for the bus, as she usually does. He framed it that he didn’t want her to get soaked, but that’s not the real reason. We were all there when Rebel said to lock up early and wait until morning to find out what is going on.
“Will he tell you what’s going on?” I ask, looking out of the window.
Colton’s private living area is at the back of the church. There is a pretty garden at the back currently turning into a muddy mess. I sit on the window bench and look outside.
“No,” he says, setting a glass of wine down on the windowsill. He takes a sip of his own.
Usually, I would have quipped about him drinking alcohol, but we both need it.
“That’s bullsh… crap.”
“Epic save,” he takes a seat opposite me on the bench. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”
I pick at a loose strand on the cushioned seat in front of me. I should tell him, he deserves to be aware of what is happening around his church. I bite the inside of my cheek instead and watch the trees whipping back and forth as the wind picks up.
It felt like a storm was brewing earlier, looks like that is about to happen. In more ways than one. Whatever the MC is hiding, it’s big.
There is one person I can speak to who might be more forthcoming. So far Raven has shown a more lenient side to talking about the MC. No harm in asking.
It will have to wait until tomorrow because Colt is abiding by Rebel’s order and has locked up. He’s offered me his spare bed, but I’m not letting things go that far. The compromise is that we go out of the side entrance, which is right by the door to the annex, and he’ll see me inside.
“You should meet with Nero and find out how far-reaching their issues can be. For your congregation. I’m going to ask Raven.”
His head comes up from where he was staring into his wine. “You should stay out of it.”
“Raven isn’t like them.”
“I know,” he agrees, finishing his wine. “But Rebel is her brother, and she has loyalty to the club.”
“She won’t tell me?”
“I’m not sure she has information on what is going on either.”
“She’s smart.”
“Yes.” He sets his glass aside and scratches the side of his neck, loosening his collar. “Which is why it’s best to leave it alone. You shouldn’t put her in the position of having to go against her family. Nero will tell us what we need to know.”
He might be right, but I’m nosy. And the club wouldn’t have a clue about that man if I hadn’t gone over and told them. I’m owed something.
We watch some TV and have a couple more glasses of wine before Colt escorts me back to the annex and tells me he’ll be disappointed if I don’t stay put until tomorrow. I promise I will, and he waits till I’m inside before he leaves.
I can’t see the clubhouse from here, but I hear the bikes. They’re usually not as loud, but there are a lot of them out there. Whoever that man was, he’s stirred shit up.
The weather hasn’t improved much the following day, even though the rain is on and off. Painting is still off the table. Colt has given Marisol and Patrick the day off and is being cagey, but he is planning to meet Nero.
He’s flat out refused to allow me to tag along, so as I said last night, I’m taking the next best option and have walked into the bar. Raven gives me a smile as I walk over and sit on a stool.
“Hey lady, what can I get you?”
“Tequila?”
“Girl, if you ask for a tequila, you better mean it,” she grins.
“Okay, two tequilas. You’re joining me.”
“I’ll never turn that down.”
She goes to prepare the drinks, and I glance around, checking everyone out. My gaze lands on the table where that dick was the other night.
“Hey, has that guy been back in?” I ask Raven.
“Which one? Was he cute?”
I laugh. “No, the ass who got in my face cause I bumped into him.”
Her lips turn down, and she shakes her head. “No. he’s only been here a couple of times.”
“Hopefully he stays away.”
“Oh, he is barred. Rebel will kill him if he sees him again,” she smirks and sets a shot of tequila down for me.
“Why would he do that?”
“Are you kidding, these guys might be assholes, but they don’t tolerate anyone hurting women.”
I snort, remembering the first time I met him. Raven’s mouth drops open as she remembers too, although she didn’t see the lead-up to where he had a gun pointed at me.
I’m hoping she is the kind of woman who would find that unacceptable, even if it is her brother.
“Hm,” she tilts her head and studies me.
“What’s that look?” I ask, alarmed by how she is scrutinizing my face.
“Rebel might be my brother, but ugh, I can admit he’s semi-decent looking.”
“Okay,” I grab the shot glass and pretend I didn’t fuck her brother a few nights ago.
“The thing with my brother, he doesn’t do long term. He never has and he’s left a trail of broken hearts behind him over the years.”
“Good for him. Bad for the women with broken hearts,” I add belatedly, thinking of Katrina.
This wasn’t how I planned our conversation going. Raven downs her shot and sets the empty glass on the bar.
“I don’t need anyone to fight my battles for me,” I say, trying to divert whatever Raven thinks she is seeing. “I spent years living in LA, in the sleazy underbelly where I had to keep my guard up.”
“Is that why you carry mace with you?”
“Every woman should carry mace with her. And be able to throat punch a guy.”
After a beat, she throws her head back and laughs. “I would kill to see you do that to Rebel.”
“You want me to beat up your brother?”
“Bring him down a peg or two. We’re too old to have physical sibling fights anymore,” she adds wistfully, making me laugh. She leans her elbows on the bar, it’s quiet for a mid-week evening. “I’ve asked before, but are you going to go back after you’ve finished the painting?”
“I’m not sure,” I say out loud for the first time. This visit is a hiatus, a chance to regroup and get back to what I love most. “I’m enjoying spending time with Colt,” I add.
“It’s strange to hear you call him that,” she put her palm on the side of her face and rests her elbow on the bar. “He’s Father Eastwood to me.”
“That is strange to me. Could I get another?”
“Sure,” she grabs another glass and fills both up, clinking them together before downing it. “That’s my last for the night. He’s young to be a priest,” she muses.
“He’s wanted to do it for a long time,” I say. Raven listens as I explain his Catholic upbringing. I don’t elaborate on why I didn’t share their love of the God Almighty above. “I never thought he’d go through with it.”
“He’s good at it.”
“Do you go to church?”
“Sometimes,” she says, looking over my shoulder.
This conversation is veering off track. Raven is called away to serve someone as the only one behind the bar. When she comes back, I decide to get to the point.
“Things were strange here last night.”
“How so?” She moves the tray with the empty glasses into the dishwasher behind her.
“The man I saw.”
Raven starts the dishwasher and looks around. “Not a good idea to raise that in here.”
“How can I not be curious?” I ask. “The entire atmosphere changed. Rebel practically frog-marched me to the church and told Colton to lock up and not let me out. I didn’t think telling them about the man I saw would cause that much of a reaction.”
“You told them?” Raven’s brow lifts.
She didn’t know. Well, maybe I can play that to my advantage. No, I can’t, it isn’t right using Raven for information. And she is far too astute. I explain to her what happened last night, and her face grows more concerned with every piece of information.
“I’m pretty sure you know I can’t talk about it. All I can say is, if Rebel was concerned, it’s genuine. Walking you back across the street drives that home even harder.”
“I was the one who told them, and then I was…” I trail off. Through the reflection in the mirror behind the bar, I notice two men enter the room through the rear hallway.
“Don’t ask questions,” Raven says, leaving no room for argument.
Rebel gives me a cursory once over, which makes me feel about two inches tall, then indicates for his sister to move down the bar. I try not to, I do, but it’s hard when Raven is whisper-arguing with her brother, who is growing more exasperated with every sentence they exchange.
The guy behind Rebel is on his phone. He’s tall with black hair and a serious face. There are dark circles under his eyes, as if he hasn’t slept. I wonder if any of them did.
“Fine.”
“Raven.”
Rebel’s voice is loud enough to carry down the bar, but not so loud he is yelling at her. He may as well have been from the tone.
“Just do it.”
“I said fine, but this can’t go on too long.”
“It goes on as long as it needs to.”
Rebel glances in the mirror, and our eyes meet in the reflection. He also looks tired and very pissed off. It’s not at his sister. Whatever is going on, it’s got them all on edge.
“What am I supposed to do?” Raven draws his attention away from me.
He walks toward me, stopping right beside me, too close to be normal, that smell envelops me, bringing back memories I’d rather not remember.
Raven is watching until the other man diverts her attention, and she glares at him too, then walks out from behind the bar and heads over to a table of patrons. I watch her, ignoring Rebel as the people get up to leave.
I have to tilt my head to look up at Rebel, he is so tall, even with me sitting on this high stool.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“The bar is closing, go home.”
“You have a bad habit of telling me what to do, River.”
His jaw twitches at my use of his real name, I should thank Raven for that. It’s kind of nice getting one over on him when he’s being all high and mighty.
And bossy. Which doesn’t sit well with me.
“Maybe I’ll hang around, I can’t paint because of the weather. Raven is at a loss with the bar closing, we could get to know one another better.”
“If you want to get anything out of my sister, you’re gonna be disappointed.”
“Who says I need to get anything out of your sister that I can’t get out of you?”
It’s all bravado, but he doesn’t need to know that. As much as he will never admit it, his eyes darken, and not angrily, in a way that makes me want to fan my face.
“I can do research myself,” I tip up my glass and swallow the last of the tequila.
“Stay out of this,” he leans in closer, his breath warm against my cheek, because I’ve yet to turn back and look at him.
“Has Nero spoken to my cousin yet?”
“Kinsley, don’t push me.”
“Or what?” I turn my head too fast for him to back away, our noses almost bump because I miscalculated how close he is.
Neither one wants to be the first to back off.
It’s a struggle to focus on one thing as I take in his features, his pitch-dark eyes have the barest hint of brown flecks around the pupil, and his black lashes are long, framing them perfectly.
He has a sprinkle of pale freckles over the bridge of his nose and under his eyes, that would be endearing if he wasn’t a big, scary biker.
I’ve been up close and personal with him a few times now, but have never noticed these little things about him. I’ve never thought to pay any attention to them until now. It’s a struggle not to let him see how he is affecting me.
“If you see anyone else wearing that cut, you walk away.”
“Who was he?”
“Do you hear me?”
“You say that like you have a say in what I do.”
People around us are leaving the bar. I don’t know if anyone is paying attention to us because Rebel’s face is filling up my vision, stealing my ability to draw breath or squash the need to jump him.
“Colton can’t control me, your crap at reading people.”
“I don’t need to use anyone else to control you, little villain.” His feet shuffle even closer. My chest is almost touching his abdomen at this point. “I can get you in line all by myself.”
Who knows what possesses me, I put a hand on his chest, right over where he still has marks from where I clawed his skin, where I drew his blood.
Everything around us sucks in like a void of darkness, and all sounds are shut out, as if we’re in a bubble that the rest of the room can’t see.
His eyes flick back and forth between mine. His gaze so intense a shiver runs down my spine that he definitely sees, his pupils dilate, taking away those light flecks. His heart is pounding against my palm. He isn’t as unaffected as he likes to pretend.
The tension that has sprung up between us is sharp and sexually charged and oh, so messy.
It’s as if I’m underwater, drowning in his dark eyes. The noises filter back into my brain, the sound of Raven talking, a door slamming, and a phone ringing.
It takes a second to realize it’s mine. Rebel raises a brow and looks down at my hand, still planted against his chest. Flustered but not wanting to show it, I draw my hand back and pull out my phone. The name on the screen makes everything go cold.
“Why is a cop calling you?”
I shake out of the stupor of seeing his name and look up at Rebel. He’s moved back but is still in my personal space and it suddenly feels suffocating.
“None of your business.” I twist and get off the stool on the opposite side to where he is standing.
The phone has stopped ringing, and I shove it into the back pocket of my jeans. It’s been months since he called.
“Kinsley.”
Hearing him say my name like that makes me cringe.
“Who is that and why do you look scared?” he asks, taking a step closer. “Don’t lie to me, it’s written all over your face.”
“I’m not scared,” I lie. “You’ve been telling me to go, pushing me out the door from the moment you walked in here. Well, now I’m doing it.”
Without another word, I walk out and leave him behind, just as he wanted.