“Rage needs a room,” the woman answers, dipping her head. It’s easy to see that she is a little more hesitant to argue now that he’s here.
“Hey, Cowboy,” Cole greets the man.
The cowboy looks me up and down, clearly amused. “Give em’ the knockin boots suite,” he tells her.
Both her mouth and mine fall open at the same time.
“Ew, no,” I say. “I’m not going to be knocking boots with anyone around here.”
The woman rolls her eyes. “That’s obvious.”
“How is that obvious?” Carson asks, resting his elbow on the counter.
“She’s …”
“Gorgeous,” he says at the same time the woman replies, “Dull.”
Dull works for me. That’s what I’m going for. Boring and peaceful. It looks like she’s dolled up for a New Year’s Eve party or something.
“Just …” I shake my hand impatiently. “Can we just get on with whatever this is?”
“What isthis?” Cowboy asks, grabbing a key off the wall behind him.
“Don’t know yet,” Cole answers. “She showed up out at the Trough looking for Rage.”
“So, you know him?” the woman asks me.
I curl my lips between my teeth. I’m not telling her anything because I know better. She reeks of arrogance and attitude.
She huffs, clearly annoyed with my silence. “Whatever.” She waves her hand, dismissing us to go into the back room.
“Don’t worry about her. Tiff is just jealous. She wants in Rage’s pants, but that’s never going to happen,” Cole says, guiding me up the most beautiful wooden staircase I’ve ever seen.
I have to admit this place is pretty cool. Too bad I won’t be staying long.
When we get to the room, I’m floored at how stunning it is. There is a huge four-poster bed in the middle. Cole drags us toward the bathroom and then removes the bottle of pills from his pocket. He makes a big show of flushing them down the toilet.
“We should check her shit when we bring it up here. You know, to make sure she doesn’t have anything else on her,” Carson says, watching from behind us.
“I could just jump out the window, you know.” I push my way past his brother so I can use the toilet. “I have to pee. Get out.”
He gives me a quick pat down before unlocking the cuff from around his belt loop. He shuts the door behind him, leaving me to stare at myself in the mirror.
“Deep breaths,” I remind myself, shoving down the anger I feel at my brother for putting me in this situation. But maybe I shouldn’t be angry at him. It might not be entirely his fault. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dealt with my family’s problems. I can’t tell you how much debt and trouble I’ve had to work out for them. But like I said, I thought that was behind me.
“Chop. Chop. Rage doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” one of the men on the other side of the door says while knocking a little tune with his knuckles over the wood.
I quickly use the bathroom and splash some water on my face. When I step out, I pull my shoulders back, prepared to fess up.
“Good. You’re ready,” Cole says, once again locking me to his beltloop. “Sorry, but I can’t take any chances.”
“Wait,” I say, dragging my feet. “The Bloody Scorpions sent me. They want to know when and where your next shipment of guns is going.”
The two of them laugh. “I bet they do, now that we got a lock down on eighty,” Cole says, basically dragging me across the room.
“Eighty?” I ask, jerking at the cuff running between us.
“I-80 … the interstate.”