Page 61 of Knox Unleashed
It’s not that big a place, and when it becomes apparent they aren’t in here, we sit. Once we do, we get plenty of hot coffee and the menus.
“Fuck,” I mutter when the server walks away. “Was hoping they’d be here.”
Sunny fiddles with a sugar packet. “Maybe they’ll come in while we’re eating.”
I shake my head. “They’ll see the bikes outside and split.”
“We could go buy a couple of small cameras,” North says. “Hook ‘em up in their motel room and out front, here, somewhere. We’d at least get notification when they were back.”
“That’s a solid plan,” I say. “Make it happen.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Havoc blow the wrapper off his straw straight into Vandal’s coffee. I swear to God, those two act like they’re still in high school.
When it comes, the food is good. I left Maren’s and rode home to change and quickly eat some toast, but I’m fucking starved. I ordered a full breakfast, then added a third egg and extra bacon. The portion doesn’t disappoint, and I can see why those two assholes love the place so much.
By the time I’m done, I’m completely stuffed full of food.
I feel better because, while we haven’t found them yet, we have a lead on Dean Mercer and whoever his copilot is.
Then, as if I summoned her, Maren walks out of the craft shop. She’s wearing a dress. A sundress with a denim jacket over it. Her skin looks as shiny and soft as I know it feels. And on her feet are little sandals.
The sun catches her hair, setting fire to the auburn in it.
I force myself to look back down at my empty plate. I guess I missed her truck because I was too busy looking for the one the men drove.
“Look at the tits on that,” a guy in the booth next to us says.
I look where he’s looking, and sure enough, he’s staring at Maren as she pops the flatbed of her truck and shoves the canvases she’s manhandling into the back.
His friend looks over his shoulder to glance out the window. “Nah. They’re not big enough to fuck.”
Takes everything I am not to get up and slam their faces into their dishes. But then, there’d be questions asked. And security camera footage.
Plus, it’s only words. Maren will be in her truck and away soon.
“She looks like the type. Those are the easiest,” the first guy says.
“Was your food okay, Prez?” Vandal asks from his booth.
“Yeah. Fine.” I draw my attention from the rude pervs and Maren. “Can see why they keep coming back here.”
But the mouthy one keeps talking. “I bet you a hundred bucks I could fuck her before midnight.”
I look over to the two men as the other offers the first his hand. “Deal.”
The guy throws his napkin down on the table, checks his teeth in the blade of his knife, and steps out of the booth.
Do not get involved, Knox.
Mentally, I say the words, but I know they are utterly meaningless as I see the guy tug on the belt of his jeans and stride outside.
I know I can take the guy in a fight. But maybe it will help me get over whatever the fuck this is between me and her if I see Maren respond to the approach of another man.
But I see the confusion on her face when he calls out to her. I see the way she anxiously looks around the parking lot to see if there is anyone else close by.
Nervously, she fiddles with her keys.
Then, he lifts his hand to touch the end of her hair. I see the way she steps back from him and nearly trips over one of the bags she put on the ground and how she flinches when he grabs her arm to steady her.
