Chapter Twenty
Twenty
Keys knew it wasn’t going to be easy. His woman wore her stubborn expression, arms crossed over her chest, her vivid green eyes daring him to give her another order.
“I’m not going to the compound unless you tell me what you’re going to do and where you’re going to be.”
Bog, but he loved it when she challenged him. He liked that in moments like this, Lyric didn’t fear opposing him.
“I told you there would be times I would have to leave on club business. I also told you that there would be times it would be safer for you to be at the compound, where those not going on a mission could better protect you. You won’t be the only wife there.”
Her chin went up. “But I’m not your wife. I’m a girlfriend. I’m already figuring out girlfriends don’t have quite the same status as wives. Which means they don’t have to be protected.”
He waved that ridiculous argument aside. She knew it was silly as soon as she said it aloud. “This is a matter of your safety, so you aren’t going to win.”
“It isn’t about winning.”
“What is really upsetting you, Lyric?” He glanced at his watch. He shouldn’t have indulged himself by making slow, thorough love to her when he was expected to bring her to the compound before first light. He needed to find a way to reassure her, but he hadn’t left himself a lot of time.
“Yesterday. My grand opening.”
He caught up her small backpack and stomped to the bathroom to collect her toothbrush and the other items she used every morning and night.
From there, he went to the closet to collect underwear, jeans, a top and pajamas she might need.
He stuffed those into her backpack, caught her hand and led her out to the truck.
The last thing he wanted to do was talk about what had taken place during the opening of her salon.
Czar had carefully put together the plan to pull off the deception of the century.
Having law enforcement as their alibi was brilliant.
Photographs for the papers had been taken.
They were on all the businesses’ cameras on the street.
They were seen by everyone. The plan had been brilliant from start to finish.
Not to mention, they were eliminating Ghosts at an astonishing rate.
So much so that the head of that corporation was going to have to start worrying about losing so many of his trained assassins.
Lyric was observant. Very. If Keys was close by, she focused on him.
It was one of the things he particularly loved about her.
She was intensely passionate. She gave him whatever he wanted.
She was utterly about him and yet completely her own person.
She was intelligent and stubborn as hell when she felt strongly about something.
The bottom line was Lyric had noticed something was off and had waited for him to tell her about it.
She might have let it go, but now he was not just asking, he was telling her she had to go to the compound and he wasn’t going to be with her.
“We’ll talk about it on the way.”
She was Lyric, so she didn’t fight him. She might be stubborn but she was practical, and she knew he meant what he said this time.
There was no argument that was going to change his mind.
She slipped into the passenger seat and snapped on her seat belt without being prompted.
Her lips were set in that pouty little bow he found irresistible.
He kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road. It was the only safe thing to do.
“What did you think was going on, Lyric? Torpedo Ink threw a huge community party for the opening of your salon. I know your appointment book is completely filled for the next two months.”
“You always pay attention to me. Always, Keys. It doesn’t matter if you’re next to me or a football field away. You keep your eye on me. You didn’t.”
“Were you uncomfortable? You didn’t reach out to me.” He had to tread very carefully. He wasn’t going to lie to her. He’d promised himself and her that wouldn’t happen.
A smile flirted with her mouth, deepening her dimple briefly. “You’re so good at it, Keys.”
He glanced at her, one eyebrow lifting. “Good at it?”
“Bullshit. You’re very, very good at bullshit.”
He scowled as he turned his gaze back to the road. “You have a mouth on you, woman.”
“Maybe you’d better explain to me what was going on. I’m not stupid, Keys.”
He didn’t like that she might believe he thought that of her. “You’re my number one priority, Lyric. Always,” he said. Meaning it.
“I believe that. It doesn’t explain what was going on.”
“You’re family to Torpedo Ink. It doesn’t matter that they barely know you: you’re mine.
That makes you family. Before anything else we do, we remove all threats to our women, our children and the club.
Declan and his boys threatened you. They made their move against you.
That was a declaration of war, and we take that seriously.
Suffice it to say, the threat to you has been removed.
We don’t need any further discussion on the subject. ”
She was silent for a long time. The high fence around the compound loomed in front of them before she answered. “I don’t know how you pulled it off, but it had something to do with Player, Blythe and Zyah.”
“Wildfire. I love you. I do. But this is something we never talk about. As far as the world knows and will always know, we were having a great time in the streets of Caspar celebrating the opening of your salon.”
He put the truck in park and jumped out, catching up her backpack before rounding the hood of the truck to open the door for her.
Lyric slid off the seat, taking a little jump to land on her feet. Keys hid a smile. He held out his hand to her. When he walked with her, he wanted to be holding her hand. Connecting them together. Letting the world know she was with him, and he was proud of her. Proud to be the man she’d chosen.
It was odd to feel so strongly about something so simple as holding her hand.
Doing so tied up one of his weapons. That meant it wasn’t the most intelligent of moves when it came to security.
He was confident enough in his abilities to protect her to make the decision to stop living his entire life based on security precautions.
Keys was grateful to see that Seychelle and Anya were already in the large common room.
The two were seated in the grouping of chairs that allowed conversations when there was a large crowd.
He guided Lyric straight to the two women and waited for her to sink into the chair closest to Seychelle before crouching down beside her.
“I’ll put your things in the room I use when I’m here.”
Lyric tilted her head to look up at him. “You have a room here?”
Inwardly, he winced. Yeah, he had a room.
It had been thoroughly cleaned when he’d purchased his house, but like the others, he’d kept it.
Lyric had a strong sense of smell, and it was possible she would detect the presence of another woman who had been there before her.
He touched wood and could get information.
He didn’t discount the possibility that Lyric would see, smell and feel too much in that room. He changed gears abruptly.
“Lana and Alena both keep rooms here. They haven’t used them in a long while. Alena has a small apartment here as well. One of those rooms may suit you better. Cleaner. Let me get that situated.”
“I would appreciate it.”
Lyric was Lyric. She knew exactly what he was concerned about, but she wasn’t sarcastic. She really was appreciative. Bog. He loved her. That was the bottom line. He was so in love with her, and whenever he thought he couldn’t love her more, he found he was wrong.
“I’ll take care of that.”
Seychelle put a hand on his arm as he started to rise.
“Did you hear the news this morning?” Seychelle asked, keeping her voice low.
“Five dead bodies were found in one of the local Airbnbs, a place on the edge of the Pygmy Forest. It had been rented to some billionaire. He was head of a huge corporation.”
Lyric glanced up at Keys. He knew he wore his expressionless mask, which probably told her more than if he’d just confessed everything to her.
“Keys,” Seychelle continued, holding him there, “it was weird because Declan and Co. Corporation had five owners. All five were killed within a day of each other. One of them was in prison, and he was stabbed to death. It gives me the creeps to know it happened so close to us.”
“You know you’re safe, Seychelle,” Keys reassured her, keeping his voice gentle. “Savage will only be gone for a short time. The compound will be closed, and we’ll have men here watching over you.”
A little shiver went through Seychelle, and Anya immediately put her arm around her. “Lissa and Scarlet will be with us, Seychelle,” she assured her. “Why are you so worried?”
“To have murders like that so close to us is upsetting,” Seychelle answered. “I’m still so weak after the blood loss, and if you all had to run, I’d only hold you back.”
Keys stood up. “You tell Savage you’re feeling so vulnerable?”
Lyric’s gaze met his. She got that he wasn’t just talking to Seychelle. If the women had any concerns, he believed they needed to express those worries to their men. It was a reminder to her, and being Lyric, she understood.
“Seychelle?” he persisted when his inquiry was met with silence.
“He was very busy,” she muttered. She tipped her face up toward his, wearing an expression of defiance. “I feel like I’m the only woman married to one of you who constantly needs looking after. It’s a little humiliating.”
Savage, you need to hear this. He reached out to his brother. Savage wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for Seychelle, and every member of the club knew it.
She gestured around the room where Torpedo Ink brothers were removing their colors and doing their best to look like men who built houses and worked on vehicles. Not a single one wore motorcycle boots.