Page 80 of Property of Fang
He stopped calling me Freckles.Guess he’s serious, then.“I know.”
“It’s warmer in the house.” His gaze drops to my lips.
“I know,” I repeat. More gravel in my tone.
Fang takes a deep breath, snapping his gaze away, and then abruptly rises to his feet. “Take however long you need, then. I’ve got other shit I need to be doing.” He takes a few steps away before stalling to add, “You need to call your dad. The sooner we get him here, the sooner we can figure out how we’re gonna put an end to this mess. All of it.”
And there he is—the loyal soldier to his cause.
“I know.” But unlike him, I’m not ready to go back to my role yet. I want more time to disassociate. To pretend this is all a nightmare and not my reality. To plan. Prepare myself for the inevitable. “I’ll call him later.”
“Later might be too late.” Fang stares out the doors toward the yard as a motorbike idles by. “Don’t leave it too long.”
“I won’t.”
He wets his lips and then gives a simple nod before striding from the barn.
I release a sigh and lean back, staring at the ceiling beams. He pushed me. Followed me out of that damn house and harassed me with the truth until I broke. And somehow, even though I could wager he did it on purpose to get what he wanted from me, I still feel as though he did me a favor.
I can’t shake the relief that gently swirls inside of me after offloading onto him. Can’t deny the way he looked at me, either.
Or what it meant.
Because I felt it too—confused.
At face value, the man is nothing more than a bully: he harasses me, says horrible things, and throws tantrums when he doesn’t get his way. And yet, I don’t get the same sense of danger from him that I do with some of the other members of the Kings of Anarchy. From the minute I arrived at the property, I felt as if I’d already overstayed my welcome—even with Fang. But at the same time, he makes me feel as though I’m supposed to be here.
As though—as difficult as my current life situation is—we were put on a crash course with one another because weneedeach other to be able to sort this out. I need him to help me get the Devil’s Breed out of my life, and he needs me to help get them out of his territory.
Perhaps Fate does follow us both.
There may be more to this I can’t see yet.
Or perhaps I’m that fucking desperate for a break that I’d believe my own bullshit.
Goddamnit.I tip my head to take in the surroundings. The Kings’ barn is something to be admired. It’s clear they don’t use it for regular farming duties; tables line the left side where I sit, a temporary stage set up at the rear. Photos, flags, and other assorted paraphernalia adorn the walls between the exposed beams, with lights strung along the overhead frame. Cabinets and foldaway tables lean up against the right-side wall.
This barn is a place to come together. To celebrate. As family.
I don’t feel right being in here.
Leaving the folded blanket on Fang’s stool, I take the used paper towels and dump them in a steel drum that doubles as a trashcan. Idohave an obligation to call my father, and yeah, I should do it sooner rather than later. I know, as do the other women still in the clubhouse, how things can change quickly in a day.
And I know how long those days feel when you’re helpless and alone.
But I’m emotionally wrung out and in no mood for his shit. Will he answer? What do I even tell him? I never could influence the man before now—what could I possibly say to get him into the house of his enemy?
I need time to think this over.
Fang’s nowhere to be seen when I exit the barn, although I do find someone intriguing. Or should I say two someones.Kathy walks beside Circus, a gentle smile on her face as she talks. No prizes in guessing why he got his name.Probably a lot kinder than Freak Show.
I fix a direct path to the clubhouse and walk with my head down, aware they’ve probably already seen me. It feels as though I interrupt their moment together, crash in on something personal. I don’t know why their interaction feels so forbidden, other than this is the calmest I’ve seen Kathy since we were offloaded into the house together.
She looks my way before gently returning focus to where she walks, bundled in a giant coat that must belong to him. She doesn’t do it to ignore me; I don’t get that impression from her at all. It feels more like she recognizes the need to be left alone.
For no more questions.
No more judgment.
