Page 58 of Retribution

I’m not even close to a saint, but I do have lines that I draw in concrete. Sand allows your priorities to shift, so I won’t use that analogy. No innocents.

“There may be some sweet butts, but they should be passed out by the time you arrive. You can do what you want with them. They don’t partake in club business or our business. Toad’s whore may be an issue, Isolde. She’s the Prez’ daughter, and Brea is very loyal,” he explains.

“I’ll play it by ear,” I decide. I’m going to be wearing a mask so anyone who lives and may see me won’t know who I am. Brea may find herself in a new city, trussed up in a pretty bow outside of Omega’s Haven.

I’ll give her the chance at a new life. If she fucks it up, I’ll come back and end it for her. I think that’s fair.

“Is there a calling card you’d like me to leave, or is starting a fire and hoping the sweet butts are smart enough to get out enough?” I ask.

“Damn, you’re ruthless. I don’t want the cops to come down on us for this, so no calling card outside of a fire, please,”he says.

Fine, take the fun out of it, why don’t you?

“On it,” I grunt, pushing off my blankets. One of the presents that Grant bought me was a weighted blanket. I’ve never slept so well since I started to use it. Everything he bought me has been a dream.

The grumpy alpha is beginning to grow on me, I fear.

“I’m sure you’ll see evidence of my work soon,” I say, hanging up.

Knotted Anarchy’s clubhouse is about a half an hour away from their current rival. There’s a high possibility that they’ll be able to see the smoke from where they are.

Walking to the shower, I strip everything off and pull my hair up. I’ll braid it down so there won’t be any evidence of it, but first I need to wash my scent off. Stepping inside the shower, I grab my descenting bar and turn on the water.

Getting to work as I shiver in the cold spray, I’m grateful that it’s waking me up. I don’t have time for coffee, not when I have to swing by Lucas’ home to say goodbye before I light out of here. My alphas were warned that I would take jobs while I’m living in town.

It’s part of who I am. There’s a madness that needs the blood splatter in my life, and maybe that’s why I've been feeling off. Scrubbing myself down with the descenting bar feels gross, as if I’m stripping my skin of its essence.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I’m doing. It’s just for a short time, not forever, and that’s what I keep reminding myself of in my head. The water is warm by the time I’m done washing my face with facial cleanser that Grant left on my front porch yesterday. It has no scent and feels incredible.

There’s nothing like feeling as if your pores are able to breathe and your skin tingles. I wonder if he’s researching this stuff or just randomly walks through the aisles of a store to find it.

Regardless, it’s a really great kick in the ass to get moving. Shutting off the water, I dry off and lather my skin in descenting lotion as well. Brushing my teeth at the counter while the lotion dries is the only choice I have, because getting into leather pants is miserable otherwise.

I’ve already spent too much time getting ready, so I quickly fight my way into my pants and long sleeve black shirt beforetaking my medication. Blowing out a breath, I take down my hair and rebraid it before winding it into a bun.

Packing a quick bag in case I need it for an overnight, I load up on my weapons and leave my little rental. I have to say that I love having the option of my own place. Even as I get closer with my alphas, I still return to my little house afterward.

Getting into my car, I shiver despite the leather jacket I threw on over my clothes. It hides my weapons, but isn’t enough to cut through the cold breeze.

The world is still sleeping, and that works well for what I need to do. Turning my vehicle in the direction of Lucas’ house, I bite my lip as I try to figure out the best way to do this. Oliver may still be awake. He mentioned once that his work was international, which means that he’ll stay up to talk to clients.

Blowing out a breath, I take the chance that he may be awake so I can say a quick goodbye. Hitting his number in my contacts, I wait for it to ring, except it doesn’t.

“You’re up late, Kitten,”he answers. “What are you doing?”

“I’m coming over,” I reply. “Is anyone else awake? I have to go out of town for a day or two.”

Oliver is quiet before I hear him stand, the blankets shifting on the other end of the line.

“I’ll wake whoever isn’t up,” he grunts. “I’ll make sure the gates are open. How long do you have?”

“I’m already supposed to be on my way out of town,” I confess, turning right at a street. “I’m almost there.”

“I’ll get the gates open. I gotta go so I can get these lazy bums up,” he grunts. “Love you.”

My jaw drops as he hangs up. My numb fingers release my phone into the cup holder as I try to process what he just said.

He’s never said that to me before.I can’t remember the last time anyone has, which I’m aware is sad. When I got out of theJefferson City auction, I had no family that I wanted to go back to or communicate with.