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  I handed the cashier a twenty. She handed me the change, her manicured fingertips lingering in my palm just a fraction of a second longer than necessary. I glanced up at her. Blonde, blue-eyed, pouty willingness filled my gaze.

  She arched a pierced eyebrow as she slammed the drawer of the cash register, her chest jutting out. “There you go,” she said softly, leaning on the counter, her tongue swiping the corner of her mouth.

  Yeah. There was this. This was what I knew well. This was easy, comfortable. This was all the time. This was, I don’t have to think about it at all the next day—or even the next moment after I zip my jeans back up.

  I glanced back at the table. Grace put her fork and knife neatly in her dish as she smiled up at the waitress who leaned over to clear our dirty dishes. Grace slipped her faded jean jacket over her slender arms and wiped back that stray piece of hair once again.

  I let out an exhale. What I needed to be doing was concentrating on business—keeping the little sister safe, keeping the bitch in jail on an even-keel and protected, and smoothing the way with the Seeds.

  I turned back to blondie and grinned. “Thanks, sweetheart. How are you doing today?”

  “SHE DOESN’T LIKE ME MUCH, HUH?” Jump asked, his voice straining over Alabama blaring from the old jukebox in Pete’s.

  “Who? The sister?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Can’t say I blame her.”

  “She’ll get over it. Does it matter to you anyway?”

  “Nah.”

  Yeah, not much mattered to Jump outside of the club and his immediate needs. Efficient way to live, I supposed. His quasi-girlfriend was in the slammer on a trumped-up charge of his own making, but he was out partying and sleeping like a baby every night.

  As for me, I had been staying on the straight and narrow for weeks now.

  Along with the business at hand, I kept my focus on making sure the Peanut was okay—from a distance. She was all alone in that house, working long hours at Pete’s, and trucking to some college in Rapid. Nowadays, I would go by Pete’s a lot, more than I ever had before. I wanted to see for myself that she was okay, and I’d make sure she got home all right by having one of my prospects follow her.

  “How’s it going, Little Sister?”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “Why? It fits. That’s how we met, ain’t it? ‘Please save my sister…’”

  “Oh, God, help me.”

  “Give me a smile, Peanut.”

  “I’m busy, Dig. Get lost.”

  “You’re not a very friendly waitress, babe. Your tips must suck.”

  Grace let out a laugh. “My tips are amazing, babe.” She charged off, her arms straining under a tray full of dirty glasses and overflowing ashtrays.

  Many times, I’d shoot by her house on my way home a few hours before dawn to make sure that piece-of-shit Jimmy of hers was in the drive. I’d send Butler, my new prospect, to Rapid to hang out whenever she had classes, and then he’d follow her home. I wasn’t taking any chances.

  A fresh beer landed on the table in front of me. “Here you go, Dig.” Mandy, the other waitress, leaned over me, trying to get me interested in her tits yet again. A crash and a shriek erupted a few tables over. Boner’s hand slammed into my chest, and my head shot up. Grace’s ex, the Blond Fuckwad, had her in his lap, an empty serving tray teetering on her hand, her shirt wet, her face stamped with shock. His hand gripped her bicep, and he tugged on her, his tense mouth moving, spitting out smack at her. Sister remained tight-lipped. His friends were laughing, hooting.

  My head exploded, and I dived out of my chair.

  Boner yanked Little Sister out of Trey’s grasp, and I snatched the shithead out of his chair, ramming my fist in his face. Blood gushed out of his nose, over his teeth, and on my hands. I jerked him close shaking him.

  “You don’t ever fucking touch her again, you hear? You even look at her, I’m gonna slice your balls off and fry ’em, you got that? You got that?”

  He warbled something, choking, and I dropped him on the floor, kicking him once in the ribs.

  My gaze shifted to his frozen gang of pals. “Get the fuck out, and don’t come back.”

  They scrambled, jerked the idiot to his feet, and hustled him out.

  “Dig?”

  Grace’s sharp breathing rose up behind me. I turned to her. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted. My heart was pounding with adrenaline. Fuck, just the sight of her being handled had made me crazy—not her, not fucking ever. I ran my knuckles down her cheek, leaving behind a smear of blood on her silky pale skin, and my eyes flared. That was wrong. This girl was clean, unmarked, and she should stay that way.

  A chill swept up my back. I would kill anyone who tried otherwise.

  I took in a breath and rubbed the blood off her cheek with my thumb. We didn’t say a word to each other. I planted a quick kiss on her forehead and then got the fuck away from her. I had to get the hell out of Pete’s.

  “We off?” I asked Jump.

  “Fuck yeah. Bringing Mandy and these other two back with us.” He pointed at the two dark-haired girls laughing at a joke Boner was telling them.

  Good, I needed a distraction—badly.

  “Butler, you stay here till closing. Get Little Sister home safe. Watch for that asshole.”

  Butler raised his beer bottle and slid back in his chair, a grin lighting up his face. “No worries.”

  “Why should I believe you?” Vig asked. “At the end of the day, that cunt’s your property. She’s gonna do what you and your club want her to do, not what’s good for me.”

  “Ruby’s following orders on this, or she’s gonna get hurt, and she knows it,” I spit into the mouthpiece of the pay phone at a gas station on Route 44 just outside of Rapid. “She’s cutting a deal with the DA as we speak, taking the fall for you and Jump. Ain’t that good enough for you?”

  “Nah, it ain’t. Until she gets sentenced, it ain’t good enough.”

  “You’re just going to have to wait it out. A few more weeks now.”

  “I don’t like waiting, Diggy.”

  God, I hated this asshole.

  “I’m thinking I need some confirmation here,” his voice sneered at me.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “I think I need a better guarantee than your word.”

  “Thanks for the insult. Like what?”

  “I hear the bitch has a sister.”

  Sparks fired in my veins. “And?”

  “Think I’m gonna check her out.”

  That familiar tense rhythm pounded through my head. “I told you before, man. Ruby’s not our property, so why would I care?”

  “Ruby might care though. And I want to guarantee that she really cares where all this is headed if she doesn’t come through for me. Bitch is crazy, and now, she’s going through a forced detox in the slammer. How do I know she might not lose it and change her mind at the last second for the fuck of it?”

  My vision went red. I squeezed my eyes shut, my grip tightening on the plastic handset. Mick, my president, was relying on me to resolve this shit. If I didn’t come through…

  “Our business is hinging on this, Vig. Don’t you think I give a shit if the outcome is in your favor? Don’t you think I’ve put a lot of thought and effort into making sure that this rolls the way we all need it to?”

  “Maybe what you need and what I need are two different things, Diggy.”

  The line went dead.

  I slammed the phone back in its cradle. “Fuck!” I took in a deep breath, popped in another quarter, and punched in the number for Butler’s beeper.

  A few minutes later, he rang.

  “Hey, what’s up?” he asked.

  “Where’s Little Sister?”

  “She just walked into the supermarket.”

  “Are you on her, for fuck’s sake?”

  “Yeah, of course, I am. I’m on the pay phone by the barbershop next door, Dig. What the fuck?”

  “Stay put. I’m s
ending Boner over. Stay on them the rest of the day—at a distance, you hear? You see anything out of the ordinary—and I mean, anything—you let him know.”

  “Yeah, okay. What the hell’s going on?”

  “Just fucking stay on her!”

  “I’ll stay on her. Actually, I like staying on her, so no problem.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Shut the fuck up, and keep your eyes open.”

  I beeped Boner next. “Keep her in the supermarket for a while until I beep you the all-clear. I got to check out what Vig is up to. Then you take her home and stay with her. I don’t want to freak her out by bringing her into the club, but I might have to.”

  “Anything you say, bro. I got her. Don’t worry.”

  I trusted Boner with my life. We had been through hell and back together as teenagers.

  “You keep her safe, man.”

  “Dig, I got this.”

  Jump and I went over to Ruby and Grace’s house with the cracked siding and the rusted swing set in the yard. Jump let us in with the key he still had from Ruby. We searched the small house for signs of a break-in. The living room was sparsely decorated. Faded and worn furniture from another era filled the room. A small television with a thickly upholstered lounge chair sat in the corner, begging for a weary grandpa to fill it. A couple of framed photos were propped on the wood table by the chair. Jesus, not a speck of dust in sight. I picked up a photo—two little girls in frilly dresses, arm in arm, with a smiling little blonde boy in front of them.

  I pushed Jump out of the way in the small hallway and found her bedroom. Pinks and yellows, like a leftover preteen dream. Country-style white curtains, a full-sized antique brass bed, and a quilt with fucking flowers on it. My spine stiffened. Had she ever fooled around with the blond fucker on this bed? Taken off her top for him and let him feel her, suck on her? Had she squirmed for his hand between her legs or moaned for his hard dick to be inside her? Had his cum gotten all over this goddamn daisy quilt?

  My teeth raked across my lower lip. That sting started tearing through my stomach.

  Several fashion magazines were piled on the dresser. Makeup and bottles of girl stuff and a couple of hairbrushes were organized in a long plastic container. The only evidence of a recent inhabitant was a crumpled pale green blouse and a pink bra dumped on the smoothly made bed. Someone couldn’t decide what to wear this morning.

  I picked up the pink bra by the thin strap, my eyes drinking it in as if I had made an important scientific discovery beyond my wildest dreams. I brought it close to my face and inhaled. Fuck me. Pink, all right. All girl-woman—baby powder, a warm hint of skin, and a delicate touch of that goddamn orange-blossom perfume. A flare of heat seeped through my chest. I rubbed the bra against my lips, and my stubble caught on the satin, scraping it.

  “Things cool in here?” Jump asked, standing in the doorway.

  I dropped the bra back down on the bed and nodded. “Yeah, seems all good.”

  “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here, except Little Sister.”

  “Good,” I muttered, brushing past him and out the door.

  A couple of hours later, Boner called me. “Get your ass over here, and bring beer. Sister’s cooking homemade mac and cheese. You believe that shit? I didn’t know you could make it from scratch, bro. Did you?”

  I rubbed my eyes as I shook my head. “Be prepared,” I said, letting out a laugh. “It’s not going to be that orange color you know and love so well, but I’m sure it will taste a fuck of a lot better. She good? She suspect anything?”

  “Everything’s good. Get off the phone, and bring the beer.”

  “I’m on it.”

  By the time I got there with two icy-cold six-packs in hand, Grace had a pile of sautéed chicken breasts on a platter, a casserole dish of bubbling mac and cheese, and a huge spinach salad with a couple of bottled dressings to choose from. I grinned as I tore off my jacket, quickly washed my hands at the sink, and then settled into a chair next to Boner, who cracked open three beers. A small smile swept over Grace’s lips as she scooped creamy macaroni and cheese into my dish.

  I leaned back in the chair. Matching silverware, matching dishes, clean clear glasses. A complete meal.

  I smoothed my hair behind my ears and took in a breath.

  “You okay?” she asked, sitting across from me.

  “Yeah, just hungry. This looks great.”

  “Tastes better,” Boner said through a mouthful of chicken.

  Grace smiled at me from across the table, and that surge of heat spiked in my chest again. I tucked into the golden mac and cheese.

  A few hours later, Jump called the house and confirmed there was no sign of any Demon Seeds in the entire county, let alone in our little Meager, South Dakota. I glanced at Sister and Boner slouched on the sofa next to each other, their feet up on the coffee table. The young lady and the crude pirate. They laughed over yet another episode of The Brady Bunch on some cable-channel marathon.

  “We should go,” I said, clicking off the remote control for the television as I hopped up from the lounger.

  Boner lifted Grace in his arms and planted a fat kiss on her forehead. “Thanks, hon. Great dinner. Let me know when you’re up for cooking for me again.”

  “Whenever you want. Just let me do the shopping next time?” She let out a lazy laugh.

  Her messed-up hair, drowsy eyes, and half smile were completely adorable. An urge to take her in my arms and squeeze her myself overwhelmed me. An urge to lick that soft throat like a melting ice cream cone and hear her breath catch for me were even more overwhelming.

  Nope, not going to happen.

  Things were good as they were. Leaving her here, alone, in this worn-out house tonight made my gut heavy, but we’d be taking turns doing drive-bys through the night. I didn’t want her to worry. Boner strolled over to his bike while I stood in the doorway, running a hand through my hair and chewing on my lower lip like a fucking teenager.

  “Dig? What is it?” she asked.

  “Hmm?”

  One last touch.

  My hand reached out, and my knuckles stroked her cheek. “Nothing, baby.”

  Her eyes softened.

  I pulled my hand back and plucked my keys from my pocket. “Lock up, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay,” she said quietly.

  She closed the door behind me and left me standing outside, alone in the darkness. The door’s lock bolted into place, and I turned and headed for my chopper. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Boner waving at her. She must have been standing at the window, holding back that thick curtain.

  “Let’s go,” I muttered.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Boner settled on his saddle.

  I got on my bike and lit her up. I forced myself not to look back, and instead, my eyes snagged on a vintage Chevy Nova in the driveway next door. I took in the car’s familiar curves and breathed again.

  We sped off, our engines exploding in the silence of the night.

  “SHE’S THAT CUNT’S LITTLE SISTER, AIN’T SHE?” Vig’s grip sank deeper into Grace.

  He wrenched her closer into his thick body like an ape clutching its prey. Grace gasped, her arms straining against his bulk.

  “She ain’t house pussy,” I said, my voice low, tight. “Now, let her go.”

  “Why should I? She’s here, ain’t she? Why do you give a shit?”

  Damn it, what the fuck was she doing here?

  The party was jamming at the clubhouse, more crowded and crazier than I had seen in years. We had finally reached an agreement with the Demon Seeds and successfully coordinated and completed that run through Wyoming. We’d invited them to stick around for the weekend to party before they headed back home to Montana. With the Seeds bullshit finally resolved—at least for now—we all had extra change in our pockets and hope for plenty more in the coming months.

  Tonight, there was lots of food, booze, weed, and girls to go around and then some. Our clubhouse was an old go-kart factory build
ing, long since renovated, with a one-mile asphalt track, sitting on three acres of property on the outskirts of town. We never had to worry about causing a disturbance to our neighbors because we had no neighbors. We shot our guns, played our music loud, revved our bikes hard, and raced around our track.

  Tonight, things had gotten raucous fast. It felt good to cut loose and not have all this shit hanging over my head for a change, and I had taken full advantage. I had just buttoned up my jeans after an enthusiastic blow job from one of the many eager young things here tonight when Boner shouted out for me. My head had snapped up, my senses recognizing that edgy tone in his voice. My sweet, easy high had gotten zapped real quick.

  Wreck, his lips smashing together, had pulled me through the noisy crowd. “Sister’s here,” he said.

  Fuck.

  My insides had snapped like overloaded circuits at the sight of her struggling in Vig’s big hands, his nostrils flaring like a beast in heat. Not her, not fucking ever. She’d raised a bottle over his head, but I’d grabbed it in time. Grace had jerked her head to the side, and her burning wild eyes had found mine, ripping my breath from me. She’d winced and gasped as he twisted her in his arms again and again. My muscles had strained against my skin.

  Did Miss Pink-and-Yellow Daisies come here to party with her girlfriends after I’d told her to stay away? Idiotic bitches.

  I took in a deep breath and squelched the pounding war drums in my head and the delicious visions of skinning Vig alive, shooting him in the kneecaps, biting off his fingers. I handed the tequila bottle to Boner. “Let her go, Vig,” I spit out through gritted teeth.

  Vig’s laugh boomed through the crowd. He was enjoying this. Oh, he was determined to fuck with her, fuck with me. I could see it in that diabolical glimmer in his eyes, echoing that unforgettable ugly voice grunting from my past—

  “Fuck me. That was good shit.”

  Vig licked her neck. My pulse slammed into hyperdrive.

  “Hey, excuse me, but I’m Dig’s woman!” Grace blared out. “We got into a major blowout last week, and I took off so, of course, he’s been banging everything in sight! He does it to get back at me, like all the other times we’ve broken up. He’s a man-whore, and I’m a mouthy bitch, but I’m back now, and I’d like to fuck my man tonight, show him what he’s been missing, if that’s all right with you?”