Page 98 of Riot’s Revenge

Her fingers closed around them. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah.”

Maria looked at me for another second before leaning up and kissing me. It wasn’t hurried. Her hand rested against my jaw, and I held her waist, keeping her there longer than I needed to.

When she finally pulled away, her forehead rested against mine.

“Whatever it is,” she whispered, “you don’t have to carry everything alone.”

“I know.”

I walked her outside. The yard was waking up around us. A prospect dragged rubbish bags toward the bins while somebody inside shouted about there being no fucking coffee left. One of the garage doors rattled open.

Everything looked completely fucking normal. I still scanned the road before Maria reached the truck.

She opened the driver’s door and glanced back at me. “Try not to start a war before lunch.”

I managed a faint smile. “No promises.”

She shook her head and climbed inside.

I stood there while she adjusted the seat forward about six fucking feet, started the engine and pulled out through the gates.

I watched until the truck disappeared at the end of the road. And I kept watching, but nobody followed her. Only then did I breathe properly.

“She’s gonna skin you alive when she finds out.” Reaper’s voice came from behind me.

I didn’t turn around. “Probably.”

Boots thudded against the concrete until he stopped beside me, and the road remained empty.

I took the cigarette packet from my pocket and lit one.

“Told her there was nothing to worry about.”

Reaper was silent but nodded. He looked back toward the clubhouse. “Spider’s here.”

“He get anything?”

“Didn’t ask. Figured we’d wait for everyone.”

I took another drag and looked once more in the direction Maria had disappeared. “Let’s go.”

I took my seat beside Reaper while the last few brothers filed in. Spider was already there with his laptop open, and several sheets of paper scattered across the table.

Reaper leaned back in his chair. “What’ve you got?”

“Those plates you gave me.” Spider replied, pushing forward some papers toward Reaper, images of the cars with grainy images of their drivers.

“Yeah.”

“One doesn’t exist.” Spider turned the laptop so we could see the screen.

“Not stolen. Not cloned as far as I can tell. It just doesn’t fucking exist in the system.”

Reaper leaned forward. “And the other?”

“The other one’s real.”