Hellion (Southern Rebels MC)

She stepped into the trailer, bringing her to my height. “Of course, and I can’t forget to thank you for dinner again.”

“Yep.”

“And tell you, ‘You’ll have to come over here next time.’”

“Exactly.” I held the screen door open as she smiled at me. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she paused and I barely heard her when she added, “Noah.”

Warmth curled through me and I had to fight the urge to lean in and brush a kiss across her lips. “Goodnight, Cadence.”

Kissy sounds broke the spell between us and Cadence’s head dropped back. “NICO!”

The kissing sounds abruptly stopped and I stepped back with a laugh, the screen door banging shut and she looked at me through the screen, mouthing, “Goodnight,” before shutting the door.

I hummed to myself, smiling all the way back to the house, oblivious to the rocks biting into my feet.

Chapter Four

Cadence

Ringing woke me up and it took a minute for me to figure out where the sound was coming from since I didn’t have a phone. “Noah,” I murmured, half awake, as I stumbled to the counter, the phone he’d given me the night before vibrating on the counter. “Hello?”

The word came out more as a question, the oddity of answering a phone after so many months leaving me questioning myself.

“Who the hell are you?” A voice barked, waking me up faster than cold water splashed on my face. “I didn’t call a chick.”

“No, but that’s who answered,” I snapped back, the retort coming automatically and I could tell I’d surprised him.

“Well, hell, I can’t blame the boy for getting some,” the man muttered, exhaling loudly. “Tell the boy –”

“He’s not a boy,” I interrupted, feeling offended on Noah’s behalf.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” the man mumbled under his breath. “Sweetheart,” he started and once again I interrupted him.

“I’m not a sweetheart.”

“I’m figuring that out,” he retorted, aggravation lacing his words. “Tell your man I’m looking for him.”

“He’s not mine and that sounds like a threat,” I informed him.

Silence met my words and then, “Jesus Christ.” A muffled sound made me think he’d set the phone down and picked it up again. “Look, honey,” I must have made a sound because he raised his voice, “Do not interrupt me. I’m sure you’re not a honey either, but I don’t know your name and I don’t want to, you got me?”

Neither of us spoke for a moment until I asked snippily, “Am I allowed to answer?” A sigh was his only response. “You could just go with ma’am, you know.”

“I could also hang up.”

“No one’s stopping you.”

“You got a mouth on you. I’ll give him that.” His next words were muttered under his breath, but I heard them clearly, “I don’t know if I pity him or respect him.” I sniffed, about to set him straight, and he chuckled. “Can you do me a favor, Ma’am?”

“Depends,” I answered tartly. “Are you a bad guy?”

“Depends,” he retorted, throwing my answer back at me. “Are you planning on hurting him?”

I cocked my head, hearing a different note in his voice. “You care about him,” I said in surprise.

“Don’t sound so shocked, Princess,” he commented dryly. “Even the bad guys have soft spots.”

“Fine,” I said loftily. “What’s the favor?”

“Tell him Johnny has information for him.”

“What kind of information?”

“The confidential kind.”

“Touché,” I grumbled and he snorted in amusement. “I’ll pass it along,” I added grudgingly.

“Don’t go out of your way,” he retorted.

“Oh, I won’t,” I assured him, and glancing at the time blinking on the microwave I gasped. “It’s 3 o’clock in the morning,” I exclaimed.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing good happens after 2 AM. Everyone knows that.”

“You know, after talking to you, I can’t even disagree.”

“You know,” I drawled, “You shouldn’t insult the person you’re asking for a favor.”

“Goodnight. Ma’am.”

“Goodnight,” I replied sharply. “Person who may or may not be named Johnny.” Faint laughter was the last sound I heard before the line went dead.

I debated if I should pass the message along or wait till morning. A peek out the window revealed a dark house and the memory of the lines of exhaustion that had bracketed his mouth decided for me. It could wait.

“Booty call!” Nico caroled and I muttered, “Go back to bed, you dirty bird.”

“Dirty bird,” Nico repeated, almost crooning, as I crawled back into the bed. Whoever Johnny was, I was pretty sure Noah would want to know he’d called, but it left me wondering why he’d trusted me with a phone he apparently used for questionable purposes.

***

I shifted from one foot to the other, feeling unaccountably nervous as I held the now empty and cleaned Thermos in my hand. “There’s no reason to be nervous,” I murmured to myself.

“Knock,” Nico urged, his claws biting into my shoulder as I stalled.

“Don’t rush me,” I muttered, giving him a cross eyed stare.

“Chicken, bawk, bawk,” he replied as the door swung open and a shirtless Noah stood in the doorway, eyeing us curiously.