Page 15 of The Vows We Keep

“Maybe you should only talk when it’s something to do with my father.”

I place my arms on the armrests, and Cat crouches next to the chair to tie one of my wrists down. “Where would the fun be in that?”

“Don’t make me regret not giving you the second shot when I had the chance.” She looks up at me.

I like the look of her down there, and I widen my knees a little before tipping my chin to my cock. “I mean, while you’re down there.”

6

CATALINA

Ihate to admit it, but King is entertaining. And crass. Hotter than any man has a right to be.

And my only hope in figuring out what happened to my father.

Staying alive as a member or associate of an MC is tough, but American bike gangs have nothing on Mexican cartels and their levels of brutality. I was raised to be hypervigilant at all times, just in case.

No amount of cuteness will prevent me from pulling the trigger if I need to.

My father has been missing for five months. I’ve hung around the club, biding my time, to find out where my father went. Five months of pretending I actually like Felipe in the hope that he would finally crack and give me something to help me find out Papá’s location.

Now that I have King, I have no reason to go back to Felipe for information.

“He has an arm free,” Neva says.

“I know, but I’ll see the minute he tries to reach for his other arm to free it.” I take my weapon from her hand. “And I have this. We need to get rid of the van. The sun is coming up soon, and we’ll be spotted if we ditch it any later.”

“Are you sure, Cat? I don’t like the idea of leaving you.”

“Then make me up a syringe before you go. I swear if I see him even reach for the ropes, I’ll stick it in him.”

“I have a better idea for ropes and needles that’s a lot fucking hotter than our current setup,” King says.

I glance over at him. “Needles?”

He shrugs. “Needles. Knives. Since when did a bit of blood play hurt anyone?”

“Me! It would hurt me,” I say.

King laughs. “Not the way I do it, it wouldn’t. I’m a tattoo artist and scarification practitioner.”

“Enough. Or I’ll drug you up just to get some peace.” I say, but it’s clear I don’t mean it.

“Cat? A word,” Neva says as she heads to the door.

I follow her.

“What are you doing?” she hisses. “You’re taking risks with this guy.”

“You catch more flies with honey,” I whisper. “He seems to respond to that.”

Neva huffs. “I suppose that make sense. Just ... temper your faith in what he’s saying and remember our loyalty to the club. Stay on guard.”

I nod and open the door. “Stay safe.” I hug her as she leaves, but I realize there’s a scenario in the future where Neva is with Mateo, and the club has killed my father. That divides her loyalty.

When Neva’s gone, there’s a heavy feeling that settles on me. It’s intuition. And I’ve learned to listen. I need to be careful about what Neva knows. I’m not sure what she’ll tell the club if she goes back to them and Mateo. I hope nothing. But her life is entrenched with them. She runs the club’s grow op for her dad. Her salary is from the club. Her house is on club property. Her father, Nudillo, the club’s enforcer, has made it known he’d like her to end up with Mateo, who is on the path to replace his father as president eventually.

He was voted vice president three days after they returned to the clubhouse without Papá.