Knight (72 page)

I sucked in a breath but it choked in my throat. My lungs begged to scream. Nothing came out. Not a sound. Not a note. Not even a broken, raw burst of pain.

“You slept with me,” I whispered. He said nothing. “You slept with me to get information.”

He didn’t answer, and every last memory of pleasure and sweetness erupted into agony.

I didn’t think anything could hurt worse than what happened to me in the past, than what
he
did to me.

But this was worse. I trembled against my retching stomach. Thorne fucked me. Used me. I wracked my brain, trying to remember something,
anything
, that might have explained why he accused Brew or Keep of disloyalty. Nothing made sense. I shook my head.

“I am not going to rat on them,” I whispered. “I’m not going to let you hurt them.”

“Why?” Thorne’s voice hardened. “You think Exorcist would have targeted you if one of your brothers wasn’t fucking with The Coup?  He kidnapped you. Beat you.” His voice burnt in the fire of his rage. “Hurt you. And it was because of either Brew or Keep.”

“You’re insane.”

“You aren’t safe with them,” Thorne said.

“I’m not safe with
you
!”

“If you help me, you will be. If you figure out who it is, I can stop Exorcist and protect you.”

Christ, if he only knew. He was too fucking late for any help. Exorcist had his own strategy, and it already included me.

If he had one of my brothers working for him, Ex wouldn’t have needed me, a Darnell, to go chasing after Temple’s drugs on behalf of my father.

My stomach threatened to curdle and give me away. Exorcist didn’t care what Thorne did. Nothing would stop his alliance with Temple.

And now, I had no one left to tell. The only man who might have helped me, might have been able to guide me or protect me or figure out how to keep me alive long enough to form a plan never cared about me at all.

The vow to keep me safe. The guitar. The sex.

It meant nothing to Thorne. It was just a way for him to control me. To get me to spy on Keep and Brew, report their behavior, and watch as the club president maintained Anathema’s order with a bullet to the head of one of my brothers.

“I’m leaving.”

Thorne shrugged. “Where are you gonna go?”

“As far away from you as I can get.”

I struggled to slip into my clothes while Thorne watched, a smug, knowing smirk poisoning his face as he glimpsed a part of me he had no right to see or touch or experience.

I shouldered my purse, pocketed my phone, and stalked from his room.

“Don’t forget your guitar.”

Jesus Christ. “Keep it.”

“It was a gift.”

“Like I’d ever want anything from you.”

“You never know.” His voice riled with scorn. “Might need to pawn it someday.”

I wanted to shove the guitar down his throat. Instead my fingers curled uselessly around the case’s handle. He followed me.

And my brothers, Scotch, Gold, and half a dozen other men loitered in the bar below. He shouted for one of the prospects as I stormed to the door. The exit closed in my face. I swore.

“You can’t keep me here,” I said.

I didn’t care how many people saw my braless chest under the shirt, my mussed hair, or Thorne’s low-hanging jeans. My head pounded, and I fought the urge to claw at the metal until I forced my way out of Pixie, away from Thorne, and ran right into the danger of Exorcist’s palmed blade.

The scream knotted inside my chest. It didn’t matter what I did. Either Thorne would try to kill my brothers, or Exorcist would mow down everyone in Anathema.

It wasn’t danger anymore. Certainty would spill blood. Mine. My brothers’.

Thorne’s.

My heart ached like someone already slashed through it.

It served me right. Lyn warned me at Sorceress. If I wanted out, I needed to run as far from Thorne and Anathema as I could get.

Except it didn’t matter now.

Nothing mattered now except buying time. Doing what I was told to prevent the gun from firing before I was ready.

The crowded bar parted for Thorne. I wished I matched the violence in his gaze. The hardness. I faked it, but no one—especially my rent heart—believed me.

“I’m leaving,” I said again. “You’ll have to hurt me if you want to stop me.”

“Haven’t I hurt you enough?”

“You have no limit to your cruelty.”

“You’re probably right,” he said. “But I regret it.”

He grabbed my arm. Hard. I yelped and fought, but his grip bruised right above my elbow. He wrenched me away from the door. I flailed back.

“What the fuck!” Brew rushed at us from the bar. He ripped me from Thorne and pushed him into the wall.

Brew blazed in a summoned rage. For the first time in weeks, the gray seemed to disappear from his hair and the lines toughened around his eyes. I tensed. Thorne grunted, but he didn’t fight the slam against the wall.

“You lay a hand on my sister again, and I swear to God I’ll kill you.”

Thorne’s eyes focused on me. “I’m sure you’d love to try.”

The sickness rose again, and the little hairs on my neck prickled to attention. I grabbed at Brew, pulling him from Thorne with every last reserve of my strength. I could hardly move the bull of a man, and he pointed me to the door.

“You want to leave?” Brew said. “Go. This fucking game is over. No one’s gonna hold you here against your will.”

Finally, my brother came to my rescue, but I feared what he had done to free me.

And I feared what would happen now that I was free to leave.

The family restaurant was far too public a place to orchestrate a drug deal.

Then again, everyplace was too public for me. In the twenty minutes it took for me to drive from Pixie to my apartment and change, I worried anything would happen. That Thorne could order Anathema to follow me. That Exorcist’s men would be waiting in my closet.

I couldn’t guess what to expect. I only wanted to live long enough to somehow explain it to my brothers. To apologize. To earn their forgiveness, even if I didn’t deserve it.

I smelled like Thorne. I tried to bubble bath away his scent in a quick shower, but I couldn’t wash away his touch. His betrayal. The warm hands that had caressed my face, tickled my sides, and gripped my hips should have just strangled my throat and been done with it.

I waited outside the restaurant and listened to the radio, grateful for the tribute to psychedelic rock that calmed me with familiarity. It wasn’t like I understood how any of this was supposed to go down. Whatever crimes my family committed weren’t exactly talked about at the kitchen table.

I drummed to the Rolling Stones and prayed my stomach wouldn’t give out on me before one of the four horsemen arrived to deliver me to the underworld.

But it wasn’t a rider of the apocalypse.

It was the Prince Charming of somebody else’s fairytale.

The motorcycle pulled up alongside my car. I recognized it before the rider. I didn’t appreciate bikes much, but I’d always hold a special place for the one that saved my behind.

Luke removed his helmet and untangled his long legs from the bike. He gave me a storybook grin. It might have won me over if the last time I saw him hadn’t been with his gun aimed at Thorne.

But I didn’t owe my allegiance to Thorne anymore.

My head understood. My heart didn’t keep up.

Luke dropped a book bag at my feet but didn’t mention the
thunk
that accompanied it. I said nothing. His dragon-slayer blue eyes gave me a wink.

“Morning, Rose.”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Luke looked over my shoulder and nodded toward the restaurant. “Let me buy you breakfast.”

Not what I was expecting. Not anything I’d
ever
consider doing.

“Breakfast?”

“You want something to eat?” He asked.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious about pancakes.”

I ducked as a blue sedan pulled into the lot behind us. A family of five emerged from the car and headed into the diner. They didn’t notice us, but I regretted wearing pink nevertheless. There was probably a reason why the MC always wore leather or black.

A raggedy Aerosmith tee shirt and jeans wouldn’t single me out on a college campus, but I had no idea how Temple or The Coup planned to do a major drug deal in the middle of the day. The police weren’t the problem though. Had they been a real threat, my family would’ve held game night behind bars years ago. But it wasn’t just Anathema we needed to worry about.

Anyone could be watching.

I made a lot of stupid decisions the past couple weeks. Pawning the guitar almost seemed like the right career move. Sleeping with Anathema’s president wasn’t even the worst of it. I might’ve been an idiot, and I might’ve trusted a man who didn’t deserve his name on my lips in conversation, song, or passion, but I could survive those mistakes.

I stared at the bag. It was identical to the one I carried so briefly in college. I didn’t know what was in it, and it didn’t matter. The Coup might’ve filled it with nickels or dynamite. Nothing could save me now.

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee at least?” Luke offered.

“Why?” My voice fizzled, as if I inhaled the acrid smoke once again. “The last time I saw you, your club tried to murder Thorne, and you nearly killed me and my brothers in the process. The time before that, you left me tied to a chair while your crew of psychopaths drowned the room with diesel fuel and then set it on
fire
.” I arched an eyebrow. “And you think one cup of coffee will earn my forgiveness?”

“You did steal my bike.”

I wanted to kick the diamond blue frame over. “It’s still in one piece.”

“You don’t want a muffin then either?”

“I don’t want anything to do with you or your club, and I don’t give a damn if you feel guilty.”

“Who said I’m guilty?”

I twisted my fingers into fists. “Breakfast. Coffee.
Muffins
?”

“Maybe I’m just a gentleman?” Luke said. “Or maybe you’re just a Darnell.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything, Bud.” He brushed a lock of blonde hair from his face. “No one’s innocent here, least of all you.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Never said it was fair.”

Luke smirked. Either he was a fairytale prince, or he was every aspect of the villain I imagined in Exorcist. He didn’t have a cloak or a gallant white steed, but Lyn trusted him. Maybe she cared about him, or maybe she thought he was the best way to avoid bloodshed in Sorceress.

But he admitted it himself. In the MC world, no one was innocent.

“Are you going to be able to do this?” He asked.

“Do I have a choice?”

He had the decency to shrug. “You don’t.”

“Then what does it matter?”

“I need you to do this right.”

“Oh, well then, if it’s a favor to
you
.”

He chuckled. “That Darnell wit. It gets old, Bud.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“You want the truth?” Luke smiled. Dimples dotted his cheek. All he needed was a wandering minstrel and the parking lot of the Bacon N’ Eggs diner might have turned into an enchanted forest. “You’re doing this for me.”

“Why?”

“Because I know it can work.”

I crossed my arms. It didn’t make me look tough. No matter the responsibilities or the promises made to Anathema or The Coup, I still looked like a child standing too near their bikes.

“You’re trying to buy drugs from Temple,” I said. “You and every other gangbanger in town.”

“But I have a secret weapon.”

I didn’t have to guess. “Me?”

“Blade Darnell’s daughter is a good weapon. We earn their trust, this war ends.”

“And what about Anathema?”

Luke didn’t have an answer. My stomach turned.

“Take this bag. Temple will send men to the pickup point. You exchange it with them, call me on this number…” He handed me a scrap of paper. “And then you give me the goods. Okay?”

“Sure. If I don’t get killed first.”

“Don’t be stupid and you won’t get killed.” Luke held my gaze. “Run away with the money? Stupid. Not coming back with the merchandise? Stupid. Running to Anathema?” His voice lowered to a growl. “Really stupid.”

“You think they won’t know?” I laughed. “What happens when Thorne finds out?”

“I don’t think you understand, Bud. Thorne won’t find out.”

I didn’t picture Luke as the eternal optimist, but he wasn’t a total idiot. Thorne didn’t survive Anathema’s schism because he was ignorant of what his members were doing. He was alive, and that made him smart, resourceful, and, above all else, the most dangerous man in my life.

I trembled in his shadow the first time I met him, and I was a fool for ever letting those goose bumps fade. If he hadn’t figured out what I was doing now, it wouldn’t be long until he learned.

And I didn’t know who he’d punish more.

But Thorne also thought one of my brothers was a traitor. That my brothers would actually
work
for Exorcist. I didn’t care what Thorne did to me, or how badly it hurt that he used me to investigate some vendetta, but nobody dared to insinuate Keep or Brew were anything less than loyal.