Loving Me, Trusting You Read Free Page A

hands. He doesn't need 'em.
    Surreptitiously, I slip my fingers into Gaine's saddlebag and lift out the tire iron he keeps in there for emergencies. And this, this for sure qualifies as an emergency.
    “State your business or get the fuck out of our way,” Austin says, standing tall and sandy haired, so beautiful I could cry. He was mine for awhile. Maybe not as often as I wanted or as deeply, but he used to belong to me. And now … My eyes shift back to Amy. Her eyes are wide, but to her credit, she doesn't look afraid. A religious Southern girl yanked out of the bible belt and bent over a freaking pool table now looks perfectly at home standing in the center of a ring of bikes, the people looking on all covered in tattoos and piercings, leather and hard lives. I hate her so damn much, but I respect her, too. The guy in front of me, Will, I just loathe the bastard.
    Will just laughs and shakes his head like he can't even believe he's having to stoop to answer our Pres's question. This sort of disrespect has to be taken care of now, before word spreads and we end up the hunted rather than the hunters. I move a step forward and Will's greasy eyes swing to my face, glistening like old oil on pavement. I want to kill him, too. I won't lie. Taking this tire iron and bashing in the front of his skull would make my life damn near complete.
    “Business? Austin Sparks, the brand spankin' new president of Triple M, has the audacity to ask me that stupid fucking question?”
    “I think what he's trying to say, rather politely, I might add, is that you better get up and fuck off before we blow your Goddamn brains out. How's that sound?” Kimmi asks, not caring that her breasts are holding center stage, bulging out the top of her leather corset and bouncing when she takes another step forward. I love that woman. Bravest damn bitch I know. She thinks I hate her, but that isn't true. I just want her to think I do. Don't ask me why. I don't give out my secrets.
    Kimmi flips some red-orange hair over her shoulder and adjusts the sunglasses on her face, pushing them up and flicking her tongue across her lips.
    “One of you boys better answer me real quick or I'm going to get angry here, and you don't want to see me angry.” She laughs and her earrings sway in the breeze.
    “What are you doing with that?” Gaine whispers from behind me, but I ignore him, crossing my arms over my chest and hiding the tire iron in the folds of me leather jacket. From above, the sun beats down on the black fabric and heats me up from within, boiling my rage into a frothing fury. It's one thing to disrespect me, but to disrespect my bike? There aren't even words to describe how I'm feeling right now. Blank, white hot, empty, pissed. My hands are shaking, but I don't let anyone see.
    “Where the fuck is Tray?” Will asks, but I'm sure he already knows. He keeps looking at me with this little flicker in the back of his dark eyes. He knows what happened to his brother.
    “How the hell should I know?” Austin begins, arm poised and steady, holding the gun perfectly still. He never wavers, but his eyes slide along the group of men in front of us, taking in their stances, the weapons that he can see, the ones he can't. There isn't a single woman among them. Pity. I'd have liked some of my old friends to see me now, see what they're missing out on.
    “He's six feet under if he's lucky. Rotting forgotten in a morgue while the police pretend to give a shit, if he's not.”
    Will's nostrils flare, but he doesn't look at me. A few faces turn my way, but they don't stay, hovering there, remembering when I was Mrs. Walker, when I rode with Bested and smiled the whole way, before things changed, before my world was destroyed and my life shattered into fragments that I'm still working on picking up, piece by piece. Behind me, bodies shift and clicks sound loud as jets in the quiet air.
    Let's just hope nobody accidentally stumbles upon us. MC business should stay