“Me too,” Wes agreed.
A moment of tension hung in the air as all eyes turned to Sal. Sal turned to Max, his son-in-law. While tensions had initially been high when Max claimed Sal’s only daughter, the two had formed a bond unrivaled by any blood tie.
“Can’t have this touching Wren.” Max’s deep voice answered Sal’s silent query.
“Fuck,” Sal grunted, more to himself than anyone else, running a tattooed hand over his dark hair. “I don’t like it. But fine. I’m in.”
“How do you want to play this?” Dax asked.
“Rather than jump to takin’ the guy out,” Cole replied, “anyone tried to find some dirt on him? Turn the tables? We can take him out if it comes to it, but it would bring some serious heat on both our clubs that I’d rather avoid.”
“Just a soft run on him,” Dax replied.
None of the Knights were surprised when Gunner spoke up. “I got it.”
Cole nodded. “Good. Find what you can on both him and Marty. We’ll bring it back to the group and decide what we wanna do. In the meantime, you keep payin’ him,” Cole directed the Riders. “We don’t want them to know anything’s up. We do this right, you’ll get your money back.”
“That’d be good, but what I really want is to take the fucker out,” Thorn grunted.
I saw the same protective gleam in his eye that mirrored my own. He wanted to protect his woman, to do right by her. Just as we all did.
And on that note, I was about to go hunting.
Chapter 16
LAYLA
Ipulled out of the school parking lot after dropping Riley off with the ever-present rumble of a motorcycle sounding behind me. It was Tatum today, Cole’s son and Grace’s younger brother; the guys took shifts so I was never alone.
Why that was still necessary was beyond me and a growing source of tension between Cash and me—when he was home anyway.
It had been two weeks since my attack. My bruising had faded, as had my patience with feeling like a prisoner in my own home. The only thing Cash had shared was that the men who’d attacked me were no longer a threat. So I should be safe. But judging by my imposed home imprisonment and being under constant watch when I did go out, that obviously wasn’t the case. I wasn’t being clued in on something. Something big. But what troubled me the most was Cash’s prolonged absences. Almost immediately following my attack, he’d been on the road almost constantly. Either there was a threat he wasn’t sharing or there was a different reason entirely he was keeping his distance.
Neither option was comforting but the latter had my stomach in knots.
I pointed my car toward the grocery store. It was a sad state of affairs that my idea of freedom consisted of perusing the aisles but I just couldn’t stand the thought of heading straight home. Eating my feelings felt like a solid solution at the moment.
When my phone rang just as I was pulling into the parking lot, Cash’s name flashing on the screen, I knew Tatum had snarked on me, the rat.
I ignored the call, knowing I was pushing my luck as I bolted into the grocery store like the fugitive I was, grabbing a cart on my way.
I was deliberating between Oreos and vanilla wafers when a firm hand cupped my backside, squeezing firmly. “I should spank your ass.” Cash’s voice was low and heated as he pressed up behind me.
I couldn’t hide my audible intake of breath, surprised at how much I liked the idea of a spanking.
“You like that idea?” Despite his frustration, his tone betrayed his interest as he turned me to face him, my back pressed to the cart as I stared up into his gorgeous blue eyes. “I’m killin’ myself trying to keep you safe and you decide it’s a good time to buy cookies?” he demanded, hooking a finger toward the desserts I’d been perusing.
“It’s not about the damn cookies,” I shot back. “And you didn’t have to come.”
His gaze shot to where my hand was splayed on my hip in defiance, his brow tilting in what I recognized as an oncoming challenge.
We didn’t fight much but whenever we did, for some reason, you could always cut the sexual tension with a knife. It was no different now.
His large hand cupped my waist, pulling me closer. “Oh, I’ll be comin’. As soon as you wrap that sweet mouth around me when I get your ass home,” he murmured, his gaze locked on my mouth.
“You are such an ass,” I hissed, despite his words lighting a fire in my belly.
He took a step back, assessing me with his arms crossed at the chest. It occurred to me then that we were putting on quite a show in the middle of the grocery store as a woman paused near us, staring at the cereal for far longer than was necessary.