“Riv, you’re not even wearing socks, which the Locktipus ain’t happy about, by the way.”
“What’s it got to do with him?”
“He cares about your toes. And the paperwork he’ll have to do when you lose them.” Rubi pressed my ancient club cut harder into my hands. “Icare about having you with me on this ride. It’s been literal years since we last did this.”
“Did what? Ride in a giant fucking circle?”
“Please?”
“You don’t have to beg me, boo. I’m coming.”
“Really?” Rubi’s face lit up, his full lips retracting from the pout that made me want to drag him back inside. “I thought I’d have to play child catcher and bribe you with sweets.”
“Sweets?”
Rubi emptied his pockets into my hands, forcing me to tuck the cut I hadn’t worn since I was twenty-fucking-one under my arm.
He’d brought all my favourites.
Squashies.
Cola bottles.
Tangfastics.
He’d broughthimself, but the bustle in the yard called him away before I got the chance to tell him he was the only favourite I gave a fuck about.
I trailed him into the ruckus, trying to remember if I’d parked my bike next to Rubi’s bobber or abandoned it somewhere else. I’d got here early to open the garage for the Saturday morning MOT rush, and dawn seemed as far away as the last time I’d seen this many Rebel Kings in one place.
Leather.
Smoke.
Petrol.
A combination my sister insisted added up to nothing but trouble and man sweat. Was she even here?
Her car was.
Nash and Locke too.
I took that to mean Orla was somewhere inside, but as I shoved my way towards the clubhouse, a flash of red rerouted me. Red I’d last seen in a dozen bits in the corner of the garage. “You’re riding?”
Orla showed me her teeth. “Of course I am. I need to celebrate squeezing my thick arse into these jeans.”
I didn’t pay much attention to my sister’s arse, thick or otherwise. And to me, she’d never been more beautiful than since she’d brought her children into the world. I stooped to examine her bike, checking Nash’s flawless work for no reason beyond I knew he’d want me to. “Where are the jellybeans?”
“With Juana and Willow. Axel’s guarding them.”
“Axel’s not riding?”
“He didn’t seem that fussed about it.” Orla drummed her short nails on the fuel tank Liliana had painted with roses and crowned skulls, fit for a fucking queen. “Viktor’s staying too, and I think Logan will be here before we get back.”
IknewLogan would be there. Because Remy was coming with him, bringing the rings I’d bought for the wedding I’d accidentally booked and done absolutely nothing about since I’d committed fraud at the registrar’s office. The wedding that was insix weeks’time.
How was this my life?
I straightened, bringing myself face to face with my sister’s probing stare. “What?”