Page 3 of Scythe (Devil Daddies MC #2)

T he music swirled around them as Scythe and Winnie walked through the door. They made it down three steps before Winnie stopped in her tracks as she stared down at the crowd.

“That can’t be. Oh, no! Hide me!” Winnie dove under Scythe’s leather cut and hid her face against his chest.

For once in his life, Scythe had no idea what to do.

Dealing with the most pressing problem, he pulled the talon heels away from where they dug dangerously close to his privates after she’d trapped them between their bodies.

He awkwardly wrapped his arms around her shoulders and leaned down to ask, “Winnifred? Can you walk or do you need me to carry you out?”

“Is he still staring?”

“Who?”

“That guy down there in the brown suit, blue shirt, and green tie.”

Scythe shook his head at that description. Nobody dressed like that at Inferno. He scanned the crowd and found him. “He looks like an insurance salesman. Who let him in?”

“He’s the superintendent of my school district.

He’ll fire me if he catches me here—dressed like this!

” She could hear his complaint against her already, declaring her someone with low morals in close contact with impressionable kids.

Adam Young had taught social studies and coached for three years before applying for an administrative position.

When he received his doctorate, he moved up the ladder at central office.

“Let’s get you out of here. Keep your face hidden.” Scythe reached around Winnie and hoisted the barely dressed woman off the ground. She was as stiff as a log.

Scythe couldn’t believe the amount of trust she’d placed in him, a virtual stranger, and one who’d not treated her with kid gloves. He’d battled his admiration of her pluck and quirkiness during the whole interaction. Scythe bet her students loved her.

“Everything okay, Scythe?” Gamble asked as he reached the end of the stairs.

“Fine.”

“Better have her move so the audience watching you doesn’t think you are carrying a dead body out of Lucien’s office,” Gamble suggested.

Winnie’s head reared back. His hands full of Winnifred, Scythe leaned his face close to hers to block everyone’s view. “Hide, Chipmunk.”

She nodded and extended her neck to press a kiss to his cheek.

Inwardly, Scythe growled at that offense.

He wasn’t a golden retriever. Out of the corner of his eye, Scythe watched the man’s head turn to focus on them.

His hands full, Scythe did the only thing he could to hide her.

He pressed his mouth to hers and froze when her lips moved hungrily under his.

Surprised by her passion, he took a fraction of a second to respond as intensely as she did.

Scythe tightened one arm around her torso and slid the other hand up to press her forehead to his chest as he raised his head. With her features hidden once again, he strode for the rear entrance, weaving his way through the crowd. He passed the man in the suit, avoiding his gaze.

Once outside the back door, he carried her past the smokers and vapers to a shadowy patch. Setting her bare feet on the concrete, Scythe said, “He didn’t see your face. Sorry about the kiss. I had to act fast there.”

“It was a solid C+. I’m sure with practice you can get better. Maybe you have a friend who could help you fine-tune your skills?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, completely baffled.

“Oh, sorry. I always rate kisses. You got a C+. That’s good….” Her voice trailed away.

“You think I need to practice kissing?”

“Well, only if you want to get better,” she suggested.

Scythe shook his head and chose to abandon this line of conversation. “Let’s go get the supplies you’ve promised.”

He unlocked the gate into the warehouse area behind Inferno and escorted her into the area. Mud from that day’s workmen covered the pathway. When she paused, unwilling to step into the muck, Scythe lifted her to drape over his shoulder. As she sputtered with indignation, he relocked the gate.

“Settle down. I’ll have you in the truck soon. Next time, wear shoes you can walk in.”

“I can walk in those heels!”

“Hey, Scythe. I hear we’re going with you,” a rough voice said from in front of them.

Winnie pushed against his waist as she scrambled to lever herself up to see the man waiting for them.

“Whoa!” Scythe warned. To protect himself from her flailing feet, which got way too close to his privates in her quest, he sighed and tugged her into his arms in front of him.

“Better?”

“Thank you,” she answered pertly and waved at the three men waiting for them.

“Right. This is Street, Hellcat, and Vex. This is Winnifred Bradley.” He introduced her to the crew.

“Winnie,” she interrupted.

“Winnie,” he corrected himself and tried to ignore the grins on his MC brothers’ faces. “Vex, you drive. Get one of the delivery vans.”

As his MC brother jogged away, Scythe waited quietly with the others at the entrance of the warehouse. That silence lasted exactly sixty-seven seconds. He knew because he’d started counting immediately.

“So, what do you do in there? Does the business have anything to do with guns? Are you all illegal gun runners?” Winnie pelted them with inquiries.

“What the hell?” Street asked, staring incredulously at the woman in Scythe’s arms.

“She’s okay. I must have dangled her upside down too long,” Scythe created an excuse for the woman who didn’t seem to have a filter.

“Am I not supposed to ask those questions?” Winnie checked with Scythe in a too loud whisper that reached everyone’s ears.

“No, Chipmunk. Never ask questions like that.”

“Because they’re true or false?” she persisted.

“Oh, look! Vex is pulling the truck up.” Scythe didn’t answer her. This woman had less self-awareness than the baby goats he’d raised on his parents’ farm years ago. And talked more too.

Street and Hellcat let themselves into the back of the delivery vehicle as Scythe lifted Winnie into the cab and crowded in after her.

He grabbed the middle seatbelt and tugged it around her before securing his own.

When she scooted closer to him, Scythe pretended not to celebrate that she preferred sitting plastered against him instead of Vex.

He lifted his arm from between them and wrapped it around her shoulders, allowing her to shift over a bit more.

“Where to, Scythe?”

“Winnifred, can you tell him your address?”

“Winnie. Of course.” She recited it slowly and clearly, as if speaking to a child.

When Vex looked at Scythe in disbelief, Scythe shook his head and asked Winnie, “What grade do you teach?”

“Second. It’s my favorite. The kids love to learn.”

Vex exchanged a glance with Scythe before nodding thoughtfully. “My elementary teachers didn’t dress like that.”

“Keep your eyes to yourself, Vex. She wore this to make it into Inferno.”

“Can you believe they turned me away twice? I overheard something that sounded like ‘too churchy’, so I borrowed this dress,” Winnie explained as they merged into traffic.

“And got in,” Vex said. “She made it upstairs to talk to Lucien?”

“Winnifred is extremely determined,” Scythe said.

“A problem solver,” Winnie corrected. “And it’s Winnie. Should I add that to the notes I’m going to write out for you?”

“Notes?” Vex asked, obviously amused by the situation.

“Scythe wishes to improve his kissing technique. I promised to jot down some notes for him,” Winnie shared.

“His… kissing technique?” Vex choked, repeating that phrase.

“You tell anyone else this, and I’ll slash your tires for the next year. Every. Single. Day,” Scythe assured him, meeting his gaze directly.

“That’s not nice. Vex isn’t the reason you can’t kiss,” Winnie chirped before she turned to stare at Scythe with her mouth open in shock. “Or is he? You’re gay, aren’t you? That’s why you didn’t kiss a girl well.”

While Vex practically hyperventilated with laughter, Scythe corrected her false assumption. “No, Chipmunk. I’m not gay.”

“Okay…,” she answered, drawing out her response as if she weren’t too positive he was telling the truth.

“Two years.” Scythe corrected himself, glaring pointedly at Vex.

His phone buzzed with a message. Since he only had the MC’s chat notify him of updates, Scythe pulled out his device to see what had happened. “You’re a dead man, Street.”

“At least I’m a good kisser.” The answer came from the back. Of course, Street and Hellcat were listening through the vent into the storage area of the vehicle.

“Have you had that confirmed?” Winnie asked. Silence followed that question, making Scythe grin.

The rest of the trip was quiet as they entered a middle-class, suburban neighborhood. Vex stopped in front of a house surrounded by the proverbial white picket fence.

“Is this it?” he asked.

“Yep. This is my mom’s house. Let me go inside and tell her what’s happening.” She pushed at Scythe’s torso, and he unfastened their seat belts before he slid from the truck.

Scythe lifted her out and set her on the smooth driveway.

He followed her as she rushed to the front door and opened the obviously unlocked door.

As he stood in the doorway, Winnie darted forward to turn on a small lamp.

A hospital bed became visible in the middle of what had been a living room previously. The couch and chairs hugged the walls.

“Winnie?” a weak voice sounded from the bed.

“Hi, Mom. I did it. The guys are here to collect Niles’s collection. Now we can get you that next treatment,” Winnie said softly as she brushed the frail woman’s hair from her face.

“You are such an angel. Were they nice?” The whisper-soft voice clued Scythe in more than the hospital bed alone that Winnie’s mother was seriously ill.