Page 99 of I Was Born Ruined (Death by Daybreak MC 1)
“Beast didn't like that Gaz was gloating about beating me up.” I reach up a hand, touching the tender flesh near my eye. Sin cringes, and turns away, mumbling curses under his breath. “I mean, I think that's what it was.” Now I just sound like I'm hedging.
Then again, no way in fuck I'm going to tell Sin that I screwed Beast again. No need to cause trouble for him when he gets back from California.
“What time am I supposed to visit the cabin?” I ask, and even though I'm planning on running, I still feel this tight sickness in my chest, like I've got massive heartburn churning up my insides.
Sin stiffens, and looks at me with this horrifying amount of pity.
“Just after my watch, I think,” he says, and then grimaces, like he's not even sure he should've said that much. “Just fuck, Gidge,” he curses, running his palm over his blue hair. “This all could've been avoided, you know.”
“Yeah, sure it could have,” I say, my voice bone-dry and splintering. There's this anger buried deep in Sin that's desperate for release. One day, if he isn't careful, it's going to break free and split him in half, bleed him out on the pavement and leave his soul for dead. “And what time is your watch?”
He pauses, smoke halfway to his lips, and looks at me critically for a long moment.
“On my way there now, eight hour shifts.” Sin slips the cig between his lips and takes off, muttering under his breath, the eclipse logo on his back catching stray shafts of sunlight as he moves between light and shadow.
I watch him go, finishing my cigarette and my beer.
How the hell am I going to get past Sin? He might have some sort of weird soft spot for me, some sort of lingering guilt from Queenie's and Posey's deaths. Doesn't mean it'll be easy to get past him, not by any means.
So … my mind gets caught on Gaz's cruel words.
Sex.
It worked on Grainger, Beast, not quite as well on Crown, but … I could probably distract Sin long enough to get the keys to the cabin. Maybe long enough to get inside to grab Grey.
With an exhale, I sit down on the seat of Cade's bike, and make my plan.Sin and Crown are on guard duty tonight.
Not fucking good.
I'm already cursing under my breath as I pick my way up the hill in my steel-toed boots, palms sweaty, knees weak, heart thumping a strange melancholy soliloquy inside my chest.
I told Grainger I was going to the bathroom and then made my way outside and up the dirt path toward the cabin. He isn't paying as much attention to me as he should because he knows I'm not going anywhere, not when I'm all the way out here in the middle of Butt-fuck Nowhere, Oregon, USA.
I climb the path and find them both engaged in conversation.
They stop immediately when they see me standing there.
“Where the hell is Grainger?” Sin snaps, running his fingers through his blue hair. I like his faux hawk, and his earrings, and his tattoos. He's seriously fucking pretty for a biker. And Crown … as much as I dislike him, I can’t deny that the soft sea green of his eyes, the rich chocolate of his hair, and the auburn highlights from the sun all give him a modelesque perfection. He belongs on a magazine cover or a billboard, not standing in the middle of the woods with a stoic expression of disappointment and distrust etched into his handsome features.
“I told him I had to go to the bathroom and then snuck out here,” I say, shrugging my shoulders and heading the last few feet up the hill to stand in front of them. My pulse is racing and even though I knew I was coming out here today, I'm nervous. I'm scared.
I'm … excited.
My nipples are pebbled to hard points, and when I shrug my jacket off, I hear them both make a sound of appreciation. I've torn that old Metallica shirt from last night into a mid-riff, widening the holes in the chest so that bits of my zebra patterned bra show through. The last skirt I found under the bed, the one Cat missed in his purge, I brought that with me in my purse and switched into it behind a tree. It's a nice, sexy mini, something to make this a little easier.
But I was not betting on Crown being here.
“Gidget,” he starts, and there's a warning in his voice. I don't know why he's warning me off. I haven't even done anything yet. And after last night, his words mean literally nothing to me. For all I know, half the senior class is dead. Or at least hospitalized. And me, I'll be blamed for it. The mafia … they'll be blamed for it.
