Page 33 of Pink Poison (The Butchers MC #1)
Chapter twenty-three
Stone
“W-Where is Kash going?” Stevie croaks.
The question stings, like she’d rather it be him carrying and holding her than me. “Don’t worry about Kash, doll,” I soothe as I push the lobby door open with my boot. “He’ll be out soon.”
We gather the attention of several eyes, all sporting various stages of lust or appreciation with Stevie curled in my arms. Their notice makes my stomach sick, knowing that they're just as messed up as the man who owns the place.
Disgusting fucks.
As fast as I can, I move us through the lobby, only breathing a sigh of relief when the evening humidity hits my face.
The sun is still high, making it feel like time has hardly moved since I rolled up.
I'd deny it if someone asked, but I sat in front of the club for nearly twenty minutes before going in.
I sat in my thoughts, grappling with who I was last week and the man that I've turned into the last few days.
Days. It's mind blowing, insane, terrifying to know that's all it took for Stevie Waters to change everything I thought I knew about myself.
She scares me, and I don’t know what to do about it.
I have a minute to fill Graves in on what went down.
“I’m gonna set you down, okay?” I tell her as I walk to my bike, conveniently parked behind Kash’s.
Her head lolls to the side away from my chest before she mumbles a drowsy affirmation.
Pursing my lips, I carefully maneuver her legs to straddle the seat.
If she wasn’t wearing those damn skyscraper heels, I don’t think I’d be able to get away with letting her sit by herself.
She slumps over the handles, before mumbling something about her head killing her. “Just a little longer,” I remind her.
Digging in my pocket, I pull out my phone and drag up my text messages with Graves. I don’t know what to tell him, but it's clear that she’s not herself right now.
“Stone,” Kash calls.
I look over my shoulder to see my friend walking out of the club with a pair of white tennis shoes in his hand and a demon-like glint in his eye.
Where the fuck did he get those?
“Everything good in there?” I ask, not bothering to address the shoe situation. We have more important things to worry about.
“He’s not there,” he growls. “I asked a few girls if they’d seen him since he arrived, and they said no.”
“Fuck!” I scrub my hand over my face. “Where the hell did he go?”
He jerks his head towards my bike. “We’ll sort him out later, she isn’t looking so good.”
I look at the blonde doll, her long hair curtaining her face as she struggles to keep her head up. “What the hell happened to her in there?”
“Hill did something to her,” Kash whispers .
That stupid fucking piece of shit.
“Do you think he gave her something?” While she doesn't look horribly off right now, that doesn't mean shit.
If Hill planned this, he would have known what and how much to give her in order for her to fulfill…
I cut the thought short. I don't want to think about that, not now.
“She mentioned that her head hurts and she's lethargic—definitely not acting like how we’ve seen her.”
His head dips as he drops his voice low. “Her breath smelled sour, kinda like vomit before I kissed her.”
My jaw tenses. “We need to tell Graves.”
“Tell him everything, Stone.” I can count on one hand the number of times I have heard Kash this pissed.
He doesn't anger easily, never had in the last few years that he's been patched with us.
Looking up, his glacial stare burns me, freezing me from the inside out.
“I mean it. I want him to know that this happened under his goddamn nose,” he spits coolly.
The pain in his voice is prevalent. I hear it in the quiet crack between words. I see it in each harsh swallow. Kash has always been so quick to attach himself to someone, but this, this is different. His soul burns for her… and mine is smoldering.
“Go check on her—see if she’s good to ride or if we need to call a cab.”
“She’s riding. I’ll strap her to me if I need to,” he all but growls.
I don’t fight him on it. Knowing him, he probably does have straps in his side case that he would use. Instead, I type out exactly what Kash asked of me, leaving no detail unshared. Whatever happens next is between him and his God.
I hover over the send icon for a moment before pressing it.
Hell, help the poor bastard when he reads this.
“Let’s go, Stone!” Kash shouts.
Pocketing the device, a dissatisfied grunt leaves me as I take in my empty bike.
It looked better with my pretty doll on it.
I settle over my seat while Stevie situates herself on Kash’s bike, now wearing the tennis shoes he came out of the club with and one of our black chop shop hoodies.
It's not the best option for riding, but it'll have to do for now.
We'll get her fitted with something better than our gear later, because there's no doubt in my mind that we will have her back on our bikes one way or another.
Without missing a beat, Kash shakes his vest off and puts it on her, giving her another layer of protection.
God, she looks good wearing our patch.
“Helmet,” I grunt as I slip mine over my head.
Kash fits his over hers, his hands fussing until she weakly slaps him away.
He relents, placing her arms around his waist before dipping his chin for me to follow his lead.
Our engines fire up simultaneously, creating a deafening roar on the street catching the attention of anyone in the vicinity.
Throwing his left arm forward, he signals where we’re headed before peeling out into traffic.
I follow him, weaving into the street in the same manner.
The streets steadily blur, morphing into brushstrokes of reality that bring me to a place of peace.
I know it’s only temporary, but I’ll bask in it while I can.
Because once we park, everything will come back, and I’m not sure if we'll be able to pick up the pieces.