“See you soon.” He winks and walks back to his bike.
I wrap my arms around my waist, watching him sling his leg over the machine he loves so much. He fires her up, and the deep rumble makes my knees weak. With a grin on his lips, he leaves.
Now that he is gone, taking his heat and kisses with him, the thoughts flood my mind and I feel uncertain again.
Time to work through this and see where we go from here.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CRASH
The entire ride back to the clubhouse, anger simmered in my chest. I was furious with for pulling this stunt, but even more so for getting Stevie involved in her shit.
There is no doubt in my mind that they knew exactly who Stevie was when they started tailing her. I am certain they followed her all the way to the mall, or took the opportunity of her being there and it infuriates me that Valarie had put her in harm's way for no good reason.
Stevie is not part of this fucking mess, but I know that Val will target her to get to me. I fell for her bullshit again, but now I will leave it up to Racer to deal with her.
When Stevie told me what she overheard, I wanted to pull her into my body and keep her safe. Something in me turned fiercely protective, making it impossible to let her go.
All I could think about was tracking down those bastards and making them pay for frightening her. Normally, I’m the cool-headed one, but just the thought of Stevie getting hurt sent my blood boiling.
When she told me that Val had bragged about fucking me days after we slept together, I knew then that Val was playing games. It is strange to think how much people can change, and why.
Valarie was never this vindictive as far as I recall, but looking back, certain events come to mind that make me reconsider my typical perception of her.
Arriving at the club, I pass the prospect with a nod, then park my bike next to Rogue’s. Storing my helmet, I walk inside and out of this heat. My T-shirt sticks to my skin and I need a fucking shower but I need to speak to Pres and VP first.
Scanning the room, it is empty apart from the prospect behind the bar and Flame playing pool.
“Have you seen Racer or Target?”
“VP is on a run, and Pres is in his office. Why?
“I got some information I need to fill him in on.”
“I’ll join you,” he says, following me down to Racer’s office.
I knock on the door and he calls for us to come in.
Pres is sitting behind his desk, papers scattered across the top while he types on the laptop in front of him. Looking up, he nods to the chairs.
“Sit.” We do as he says, as he leans back in his seat.
He eyes me, his fingers locked except for his forefingers that steeple, tapping on his chin.
“Savage said that you left to go see your girl.”
“Yeah. She had not been returning my calls or texts and something didn’t feel right.”
“He watched over your other girl, right?”
“Valarie will never be my girl— that title belongs to Stevie. If she will still have me. Fuck.” I scrub my hands over my face, hating this fucking divide between me and her.
“You said that you had some information for Pres,” Flame urges me.
“Stevie called me, she sounded scared, but she hung up before she could tell me what was wrong.”
“Why?”