Dash
I’m midway through a zombie massacre when the Harlots walk in. And I don’t mean a few them — all of them. I press pause and get off the couch to find out what the hell is going on. Peppermint gives me a slight smile, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want to pull her aside and kiss the shit out of her. I acknowledge that I ran —that I’m still running — but I’m not ready to stop yet. Don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. Doesn’t change the fact that my dick gets hard at the very sight of her.
“Everything okay?”
“That officer who came by,” she whispers. “He came by again.”
“Fuck. Still asking questions about Dean?”
“He showed me photos of Mason, Hunter, and Owen. Said they’re persons of interest.”
“Why in the hell is this guy so interested in a piece of shit like Dean?” I ask, frowning.
“My son was able to hack into the campus personal files. Officer Whitfield attended college there. Turns out, he was adopted. His biological mother is Diana Hasselmont. Apparently, there was an issue with his birth certificate when he registered so the school was provided that information.”
“So, he’s related to Dean somehow. Shit.”
“Yep. I let Skylar know, and she relayed the info to Mason. It doesn’t seem like he’s giving up.”
When she says that, the door opens, and the Eagles file in, Owen leading. I suppose they should be here for this too, considering they lost men the night we went to war with the Souls.
“All right, everyone,” Mason calls out. “Sit your asses down. We have some shit to discuss.”
The Harlots go sit at the bar. I’m tempted to sit beside Peppermint, but I opt for the pool table instead. That doesn’t stop Owen from grabbing a stool and plopping it right the fuck beside her. He drapes his arm on the back of her stool, and I’ll be damned if she doesn’t look comfortable. Content, even.
“Our little officer friend is still sniffing around. Has photos of some of us, and he’s already shown them to Peppermint, Skylar, and Allie. We have reason to believe he’s related to Dean, possibly his brother. It’s personal for him.”
“But he doesn’t have shit,” Munsey says.
“He has suspicions or he wouldn’t be coming around. We all know the drill. Keep your fucking mouths shut. Don’t deny association or you’ll just look guilty. We cannot be charged when there is zero fucking evidence, and I can assure you, there is no evidence.”
“We know how to keep our mouths shut, but what about them?” I ask, referring to the Eagles.
Owen stands up, clearly agitated by my comment. “This isn’t our first rodeo, youngster. I’ve been doing this shit since your ass was in diapers.”
“Fuck you!”
“Enough!” Mason scolds. “No one talks! Understood?”
We all agree, Eagles included. I still don’t know that I trust them. Him. Don’t know that I trust him. But if Mason believes him, I’ll manage to do the same.
He ends the meeting, and we disperse, everyone going to do their own thing. I try to catch up to Peppermint as she heads out and push the door open just in time to see her climb on the back of Owen’s bike. Rage courses through me.
I don’t try to stop her. Don’t chase her down. But seeing her on the back of his bike makes my decision easy.
No more running. Time to claim what’s mine.