“I barely know you,” Declan shrugs, “How do I know if you can be trusted with something this important?”
“I’m Kassie’s best friend,” I lay it out for him, “She’s chosen me with her every confidence and secret. She’s taken me on as a business partner. She’s let me know the most intimate, painful details of her past. She chose me just like she chose you. That means she thinks just as highly of both of us. You trust her judgment when it comes to you, so trust her taste in friends too.”
He turns to look at me long and hard. Those blue eyes of his could melt steel, I’m sure. I get what Kassie sees in him, but he’s far too complicated for my taste. Too full of melancholy and conflicted emotions. Give me a man who knows where he stands and doesn’t regret a thing. That’s what I want.
“I have to trust you,” Declan finally concludes, “You’re our best shot at making this right. If I may quote you, heaven help us indeed.”
If there’s one thing Declan and I can agree on now, it’s that there’s no time to waste. The very night that Kassie is abducted, we set our risky plan into motion. We don’t have the luxury of pressure-testing our plot, we simply have to act. At least we have the strength of Dante’s Nine behind us. Right now, that’s all the comfort that I’m going to find in this chaos.
After years of silence, I bite the bullet and send Matthew a short email, asking if we can meet. I tell him that I’ve gone through a terrible breakup, that I need his guidance. Hey, as long as I can keep a tiny bit of truth in my lies going forward, I think I’ll be able to pull this off. I’m surprised by how quickly my cousin responds. He agrees to meet me tomorrow at a greasy spoon by the Nevada border that Declan recommends. I guess it’s somewhere he stops a lot, traveling between California and Nevada.
Almost simultaneously, Declan secures me a new, far less showy apartment here in Vegas. It’s a simple studio, nothing fancy. We move my few things over there, leaving no trace of me behind in Kassie’s elegant home. Can’t be roommates with Declan Tiberi while I try to seduce the entire Devil’s Wraiths MC, can I?
“This is really happening,” I mutter, just before daybreak. I look around my modest one room, amazed by how quickly everything is moving.
“No going back now,” Declan says, turning to leave me alone in my new place for one last moment of peace. “Get some sleep. You gotta make a good impression on those monsters, after all.”
I laugh hollowly as he marches out the door. As if I could sleep now. The sun rises over Las Vegas as I look out through my smudged window at the strip below. Groggy, stumbling people emerge from the clubs and casinos, their buzzes and highs finally starting to fade in the harsh light of day. For them, the adventures of last night are winding down. But for me, the real ride is just beginning.
Chapter Seven
“What can I get for you?” asks the diner waitress, yanking me out of my nervous thoughts. I look up at the plump woman, noting the name tag she gamely sports.
“Just coffee. Black,” I tell her, “Thank you, Mae.”
“Never seen you around here,” she notes, cocking her head to the side, “Road tripping all alone? Not the smartest way to go, for a tiny thing like you.”
“Just meeting someone,” I tell her, leaning back against the torn vinyl booth, “An old friend. Or something.”
“Old friends get to be old friends for a reason,” she sighs, propelling herself toward the coffee urn, “You remember that, now.”
Declan told me that Mae had a penchant for casual wisdom. He knows this little diner well. I halfway suspect that he arranged for my meeting with Matthew to be here so Mae could keep an eye on me. Something tells me that, were shit to go down, this unassuming waitress could kick some serious ass. Of course, that may be wishful thinking on my part. I’m not convinced that Declan gives a fuck what happens to me, in the end. He only cares I do my part to get Kassie back. If I get hurt in the process, I’m guessing the Nine will just see it as so much collateral damage.
“Black coffee,” Mae says, pouring me a steaming mug, “Though I’d recommend something a bit more substantial. Put some meat on those bird bones of yours.”
“Don’t have much of an appetite today,” I tell her.
The rickety aluminum door of the diner swings open. A tall, skinny man I’d recognize anywhere crosses the threshold. There’s only one other patron here with me, an ancient gentleman nursing some pecan pie at the bar. So when the thin, lanky newcomer steps over the threshold, his eyes find me immediately. I raise my hand in a meager wave, watching recognition soften his features. His green eyes—a family trait we share—are hard, but tinted now with sympathy. That’s good. I can work with sympathy.
“Matthew,” I say, standing up as he approaches, “It’s...good to see you.”
“You too, kid,” he replies. His voice has been deepened and dredged by countless packs of cigarettes. I can smell the acrid evidence of his habit as he pulls me into a tight hug. My cheek presses against the cool leather of his Devil’s Wraiths cut. He’s a fully patched member, now. When we last saw each other, almost ten years ago, he’d barely made it through his year as a scrappy prospect. But a lot can change in a decade. Don’t I know it.
“Look at you,” I say, pulling away from our embrace, “You sure did grow up.”
“Look who’s talking,” he says, as we slide back into the booth, “I can’t believe that you’re my knobby-kneed little cousin. Or were. You sure you’re not trying to pull a fast one on me, kid?”
I laugh lightly, heart racing. If only he knew.
“How are you holding up?” he asks, pulling the ashtray toward him and lighting up a smoke. “Sorry about your man troubles.”
“I’m less troubled now that he’s out of my life,” I shrug. “At least I wiggled free before we were hitched. Or knocked up.”
“Fucking right,” Matthew says, “Honestly, Kelly, I’m sort of happy that this happened to you now.”
“Gee. Thanks,” I say, as Mae plunks a coffee down in front of Matthew. She shoots him the stink eye before bustling back toward the counter. Maybe she’s something of a roadside guardian angel after all.
“I mean, because now you can start being true to yourself,” he says, leaning his bony elbows on the table, “You were never meant to be a fancy LA bitch, Kelly. You’ve always been a simple girl, at heart.”