Page 38 of Twister's Salvation
“I should get back to the bar to help Britta,” she sighed.“Her brother came over to give her a hand, but he thinks that he’s just hired muscle rather than actually helping her sling drinks.”
“Seems like he has his priorities straight.”
“Men,” she muttered.“Take me back to the Badger’s Den, Twister.It’s like I’m Cinderella, and the bar is my pumpkin.”She stepped back.“Or maybe your bike is the pumpkin.”She laughed.“Either way, I should get back.”
“Your chariot awaits, doll.”I helped her onto the bike and got on in front of her.
The ride back through Madison was quieter.The bars were closing.The streets were deserted, but she still clung to me like she didn’t want to let go.
Didn’t help that I didn’t want her to let go either.
The ride ended too soon, and we were back near her bar.
I parked at the curb and left the engine idling.
She slid off and turned to me.I went to get off too, but she stopped me with a hand on my chest.
“I’m going to need you to stay on your bike,” she said.
I cocked my head.“Oh yeah?”
She stepped closer, and I put a hand on her waist.“You get off that bike, and I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.And as much as I think I’d like being an exhibitionist with letting you have your way with me right here or in the bar, I don’t think I will.”
I chuckled.“Am I supposed to know what the hell you’re talking about?”
She grinned and pressed a kiss to my lips.“I’m rambling.See you later?”
I cupped her cheek.“You’ll see me tomorrow, doll.Promise.”
She nodded, and her eyes were soft.“Later.”
She stepped into the bar, and the second the door shut, I heard a cheer go up inside.
I shook my head, chuckled, and revved the bike.
As I pulled away from the curb, one thought echoed loud and clear: I was totally and completely gone.
And I didn’t hate it.
Chapter Seventeen
Twister
Friday was supposed to be smooth.
We had the contractors in early at the warehouse working on demolition, Swift and Wheels doing inventory for the rage room, and I was getting ready to ride out and pick up a custom Saint’s Outlaws neon sign we ordered for the front entrance.
Everything was lining up.
Until the brick flew through the goddamn window of the clubhouse.
I heard the crash before I saw the glass.Loud.Violent.Like a damn gunshot inside the clubhouse.
“Motherf—” I bolted from the office with my boots slamming against the half-finished hardwood floor.
“Prez!”Rev yelled from across the room.
Glass sparkled across the wood floors, and a jagged hole was punched through the front window.A brick sat in the middle of the common room like it belonged there.
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