Page 88 of Cash

“She’s a president’s sister. A former president’s daughter,” Jingles pointed out. “That can be pretty motivating.”

“No, Sypher’s right. We’ve been asking this same fucking question since we found out they moved to Wyoming,” I offered.

“Sypher, how much information do you have on the Death Dogs?” King asked.

Sypher looked at Nav. “There’s an extensive file. But nothing worse than any other one percent club,” Nav said.

“We need to talk to Aspen,” Ghost announced.

King sighed. “We’ll give her a day or two. After everything she’s been through, we have to use kid gloves. I want Haizley here when we talk to her.”

Gunner nodded, then asked, “What about Zeus? When do we call him in?”

“You can’t call him in; not unless Irene gives you the ok. She doesn’t want her family knowing where she is.”

King glared at Sypher. “There are rules, kid.”

“I know, but—”

“No fucking buts. Does Reaper know you do this shit?”

“Sort of,” he admitted, but the look on his face betrayed him.

“Fucking bullshit,” King sneered. “Everyone but Cash, get the fuck out.” King slammed the gavel on the table then said, “Oh and, Sypher.” He waited for the kid to look his way. “Don’t ever fucking storm into my clubhouse again. Show some fucking respect, or I’ll call Reaper myself.”

Sypher’s face paled at the threat, but he nodded.

When everyone had left, King turned to me. He didn’t say a word, just watched me. Studying me for any hint of apprehension so he could strike.

“I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“Cash—”

“Tell you what, King,” I began as I stood. “When you’re ready to talk about Grace, we’ll sit down with a bottle of whiskey and share like fucking girl scouts at a camp out.”

“Asshole.”

I laughed and made my way to my bike. I had a Kytten I needed to declaw.

I pulled up on the mountain and there she was. Sitting on my bike, I watched her pace as she scratched at her leg. I knew she heard me ride up. You couldn’t miss the sound of the bike with how quiet it was up here.

I didn’t move. She was muttering to herself as she twirled a knife in her other hand. When she finally stopped and turned to look at me, her shoulders relaxed. I could physically see the tension leave her body.

That got me moving. I swung my leg over my bike and, in a few long strides, was standing in front of her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing now.” She shook her head and leaned into me. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” The tip of my index finger lifted her chin so I could look at her.

“I haven’t told Val anything about you. I couldn’t ask her if I could tell you because she doesn’t know we’re...”

“We’re what? What are we, Rosie?”

“Ugh!” she groaned. She walked away from me shouting, “I don’t fucking know. I’ve never met anyone like you. Everything is quiet when you’re around.” She stopped pacing and looked at me. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”