Page 53 of Rags's Awakening
“Nothing’s up.”
She’d been part of the outlaw world for five years. She wasn’t fooled.
“Club business?” she said in a low voice.
He stopped dead.
“What did you say?”
“I asked if you don’t want to tell me because it’s club business. I know something’s going on. You guys are watching the grounds and playing lookout. And I saw cuts from the Night Rebels and Fallen Slayers.”
“First, it’s a fundraiser for biker families with kids in cancer treatments,” he said, tone hardening. “Of course there’re gonna be other MCs. The Night Rebels and Fallen Slayers aren’t rivals.” His eyes narrowed. “You seem to know a lot about MC culture.”
A knot formed in her stomach. She wasn’t ready to talk about JT, her marriage, or any of her MC ties.
“I read a lot.”
He stared at her—still as stone, every line of him unmistakably outlaw. “I don’t believe you. When you’re ready to tell me, I’ll listen.”
“You’re imagining things,” she muttered.
“Nah.” He squeezed her hand. “Woman, nothin’ about you is simple.”
They kept walking until three muscular, tattooed men in cuts approached, each wearing a diamond one-percenter patch.
“Fuck,” Rags hissed, dropping her hand.
“Friends of yours?” she said.
Before he could answer, the man with the ponytail flashed a grin.
“Hey, dude. Whatcha got goin’ on?”
“Nothing much.” Rags said, voice low and steely.
The biker looked her over then back at Rags. “I bet,” he said. The other two guffawed.
“Aren’t you supposed to be walking the perimeter, dude?” Rags said, his gaze sharp as it cut across them.
“Just figured we’d see what you’re up to,” Ponytail said.
Casey recognized him right away. “You’re the guy from the nursery. You bought a watering can.” Everything went still.
All three men snapped their eyes to her. She’d broken the unwritten outlaw rule: women don’t speak unless spoken to. She didn’t care. They were grating on her nerves.
“Aren’t you?” she pressed, meeting the ringleader’s stare without blinking.
Rags cleared his throat. “Uh… this is Throttle.” He pointed. “And that’s Diesel and Smokey.”
The three men gave curt chin lifts, suddenly avoiding her gaze like she was a ghost in their midst.
“Later, dude,” Throttle said, bumping fists with Rags before they strode off.
Rags dragged a hand through his hair. “Damn, woman, don’t ever talk to an Insurgent unless they talk to you first.”
“I don’t live in your world, so I’m not bound by your MC’s rules.”
He stared hard… then the faint lines around his eyes softened. “You’re impossible.”
