The moment she stepped outside the restroom door; she knew something was wrong. The man named Savage was inside, one hip leaning lazily against the wall right next to the entrance. Absinthe waited for her beside the glass case of ice cream toppings.
“What is it?” Scarlet asked, looking up at him.
“Stay right in between Savage and me,” Absinthe said. “Give us both room to maneuver just in case. We’re going to walk to my motorcycle. We’ll leave your car here. Savage will cover you while you get on and we’ll head to the clubhouse.”
He spoke very low, but there was something in his voice that told her not to argue and, more, made her want to obey every word. As he talked, he walked her straight toward the door. Savage opened it and then fell into step with the two of them.
Scarlet didn’t ask questions because she saw the small group of bikers heading toward them. She could easily read the name of the club on the cuts. Venomous club. She’d been told by her new attorney how each of the witnesses had been visited by these club members and they were too scared to take the stand and tell the truth of what had happened that night. Her original defense attorney, and the judge, had known the witnesses had been intimidated and were too scared to testify on her behalf, although they’d written out sworn statements.
The men stopped the moment they saw Absinthe and Savage with Scarlet in between them. One stepped forward. A patch proclaimed him as the sergeant at arms.
“Absinthe.”
“Iron.”
“See you got to her first. We were supposed to have a few days’ start. Since you found her first, we’ll share the reward with you. And the fun. Holden wants her used hard, just brought to him alive. We can take her back to our clubhouse …”
“You fucking bastard,” Scarlet hissed softly under her breath. The sense of betrayal made her sick. Her hand moved toward the gun concealed in her camisole.
Savage caught her wrist gently, but his fingers dug deep. “Don’t be a fuckin’ moron,” he snapped, his voice equally as low. “Absinthe said you had a brain. You think he’d tell you all that shit about him—about us—if he was turning you over to Holden? You think you’d still have your fuckin’ weapons? Choose your targets but don’t tip them off. We don’t want civilians hurt and they’re all over the place. Be fuckin’ cool.”
“Iron, if you think I’m turning my woman over to you for any reason, you’re wrong. She’s mine. Your club makes a try for her for any reason, any reason, we’ll consider that war.”
Absinthe ignored the byplay between Savage and Scarlet as if he hadn’t heard it. He didn’t so much as look at her and she was glad. Savage was right. She just was so ready to always believe the worst, and it was really her lack of confidence in herself. Savage wasn’t gentle in the way Absinthe was. She had the feeling if she was his woman, he would have delivered some kind of punishment, if not on the spot, then later. As it was, she felt the heat of his glare and was totally humiliated that she’d made such a mistake.
“War?” Iron smirked. “Last time I looked, you got shit members, Absinthe.”
“Well I guess you’d better take another look.”
Absinthe kept walking and Scarlet kept pace, although she wasn’t certain if it was really her own choice. Something inside wouldn’t allow her to stop. It was as if the moment Absinthe had given her that order in the coffee shop, she couldn’t find it in her to disobey him. She did as Savage said and chose her targets.
She noticed that Lana was missing and did a subtle, quick look around, her gaze behind her dark glasses going to the rooftops. Lana was lying on a building behind a fence, rifle at her shoulder. She wasn’t the only one. A good-looking man covered in tattoos sat alone in a chair at one of the tables, wearing the Torpedo Ink colors. Gathered around him, on the ground, were six big ravens. She glanced at the telephone line overhead. A dozen more ravens with thick, wicked-looking curved beaks sat on the line, making it sag with their heavy weight, while at least six others flew in a lazy circle in the air. She gave a delicate shudder. The scene was a little too reminiscent of an old scary movie she’d watched once.
Absinthe swung onto his bike while Savage faced the members of the Venomous club who had loosely trailed after them. Scarlet turned to face them as well.
“Put the helmet and jacket on,” Absinthe commanded tersely.
Okay, maybe he was upset with her. She couldn’t blame him, but it had been a momentary lapse. Hopefully, once she explained herself, he would be his usual understanding self. She vowed that whatever he had done that he said would “piss her off” she would be very understanding about.