Page 134 of Bad Attitude
I counted on that, but I don’t want to appear too eager. “Why? Can’t we ride together for both routes?”
“I don’t want just one route, Declan. I want to know the whole area around where I’ll be headingout.”
“You’re right,” I concede, letting reluctance come through. “You thought about which part of the city you’ll take?” I get in early, before she replies. “I’m going to head north. That gives me options of going either for the Golden Gate Bridge, or take I-80 into Oakland.”
“South,” she says quickly. “More routes, less chance of getting pinned in, easier to reach LA.”
Exactly what I thought she’d say, and that works for me. She gets the best exit options, and I get to check out the safehouse Mercer’s found me in Pacific Heights, in the north of the city.
We reach her apartment and I park my pickup near our bikes. She’s chained both of them to her anchor, and I pause, resting a hand on the saddle.
“Good to see it again?” she asks.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” I say. “Almost two weeks since I’ve ridden, four days since I’ve seen it. I miss it.”
“Not weird,” she says, walking past me and punching in the code for the door. “I’m the same. At least you haven’t given your bike a gender, like… certain people do.” She taps her chest and winks at me.
I laugh, following her. The raincoat barely covers her ass, and I check that there’s no one around. I want to get her inside, away from curious eyes. The thought of her in that Uber still gets my blood boiling.
The door clicks open, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “Let’s get changed and go,” I say, as Raven hits thebutton for the elevator. “It’ll take us most of the day even if we keep the stops down.”
“I’m looking forward to it. Not spent a day on the bike for ages. I have a comms kit we can use…”
She trails off as the lobby door opens and a man steps out. She gives him one glance, then turns away, focusing on the closed elevator doors. A blush tinges her skin.
“Well, hello there Raven,” the man says, taking a few steps closer and wholly ignoring me. He’s a big guy, maybe six-two, about my size but carrying more weight around his middle. Cowboy boots, a Stetson, and a leather jacket. “That is a mighty fine getup you’re almost-wearing.”
He’s making a beeline for her, and I step between. “We’re on a clock, buddy,” I say, barely keeping my anger in check. “Places to be, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh?” he asks. “You charging by the hour, now, Raven? Don’t mind if I do. When are you going to be done with this guy?”
I don’t even think. I grab both his shoulders, and slam him into the wall, hard enough for the plaster to crack and his hat to dislodge. My forearm goes across his throat, pinning him there, and I’m right in his face. Too damn angry to find my words. I want to crush his head into the wall, and I’m inches away from headbutting him as hard as I can.
His face drains of color, eyes widening, and it’s that which lets the red mist fade enough that I can speak.
“She’s not that kind of woman,” I grind out. “She’salso not someone you’re ever going to talk to again.”
“Jesus, dude—”
I apply more pressure until he cuts off with a strangled gasp. “If I find out you’ve evenglancedat her, I’m going to pay you another visit and introduce a hammer to your kneecaps. You hear me?”
“Fuck,”he chokes out. “I hear ya, I hear ya!”
“Declan…” Raven puts a hand on my arm. “He lives across the hall from me.”
“Then you should fucking know better, shouldn’t you?” I growl. I’m one wrong word from putting my fist into this guy’s face, and it’s only Raven’s touch that’s stopping me.
“I didn’t mean nothing,” he says, no trace of his earlier bravado. Instead, his voice quavers. He’s a goddamn coward, picking on a woman half his strength and weight.
“You take your pile of fucking nothing and never open your mouth near her again.”
He doesn’t meet my eyes. “I got it.”
The elevator finally arrives, the door shuddering open.
“Declan.” Raven tugs on my arm. “Leave him. It’s not worth it.”
I don’t look away from the man I’m holding. “Go ahead, I’m coming.”
