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Soul raises a brow at Thorn before answering, and Thorn nods.
“Yes, you can leave whenever you want.”
I stare into the tumbler of brown liquid and weigh my options. These men could be delusional killers themselves; however, Thorn could’ve easily tried to drag me into an alley to murder me, and he didn’t. It’d be nice to finally have help finding the Phantom. I’ve been chasing this guy for four years, and it’s time to put his ass in the ground.
“Fuck it, I’m in. When do we leave?”
Hopefully, I won’t live to regret this decision.
CHAPTER 15
THORN
“What the hell is she doing?”
I put down the kickstand on my Harley and look over my shoulder, following Spike’s gaze. Delaney remains in her dark blue Land Rover Discovery Sport, and she’s not pulling into the garage. Shaking my head, I cross the large space and come to a stop next to her window which she has open.
“Problem?” I ask.
“I’m not going in there,” she snaps, nodding forward.
I roll my eyes. “Why?”
“Because…” Delaney swallows, and my eyes shift to her slender throat. My cock twitches, but as soon as she opens her mouth again, all lust disappears. “You could be worse than the Phantom for all I know.”
Anger surges through me. “Sweetheart, I’m not a fucking saint, but I’m nothing like that waste of flesh.”
She stares at me for a long moment and shifts in her seat. “Promise you’re not a serial killer?”
“Do you really think I’d tell you if I were?”
Delaney blows out a breath. “No.”
“Look,” I say, bracing my hands on the door. “You’ve been chasing a monster for years, so obviously, you trust your gut. What’s it telling you about me?”
“That you’re trouble,” she replies without hesitation.
I chuckle. “I might be trouble, but are you in any danger from me?”
Again, she stares. Finally, she shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Good.” I push to my full height. “Then drive this fancy car into the garage so we can get to work.”
Without bothering to wait for her, I head back inside. Seconds later, she follows in her Land Rover. I point to one of the visitor spots, and she parks.
“What is this place?” Delaney asks after stepping out of her SUV and crossing the garage toward me.
“Saints Purgatory MC clubhouse.”
“I’m sorry, but I just drove into the side of a mountain,” she quips. “I don’t see a damn clubhouse.”
“You will.”
Two minutes later, we step off the elevator into the common area. Almost instantly, all the tension from the trip disappears.
I’m home.
“Hey, Delaney,” Soul says as he walks toward us. “Glad you agreed to come. Make yourself at home.”