Riding the Line (Devil's Knights 2nd Generation 2)

Chapter One

Indiana

It was too busy.

People were everywhere.

I sighed and inhaled deeply on the cigarette in my mouth. The nicotine coursed through my system, and I finally relaxed. I liked the comradery from the girls, but damn if I just wanted to be alone sometimes.

The cement slab out the back door of the clubhouse had become a private place to go and clear my mind for a few minutes while I killed my lungs.

Don’t even get me started on Frost constantly being close to me. The guy hardly spoke to me unless he wanted information about Tanya or Bunny, but he was always nearby. I didn’t know what to do with him.

I didn’t know what to do with any guy, but Frost seemed different than the creeps and drunks who loved to watch me dance. It was like he saw past the glitter, makeup, and boob tassels.

He was nice, and nice was something I never had before.

A branch cracked behind me, and I whirled around, ready to karate chop whatever animal was creeping in the small wooded patch of trees. An owl hooted, but I couldn’t see anything in the darkness.

“Way to freak yourself out, Indy,” I grunted.

An arm snaked around my waist, and a hand covered my mouth. My blood ran cold, and my body froze.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Dread washed over my skin like ice water. Why was he here?

“Are you not excited to see me, I?” he whispered.

Fucking Grit. One person I would never miss and never be excited to see. Ever.

I struggled against his hold. His arm tightened around me, and he pressed my backside to his front. “You always liked to play hard to get,” he hissed. “Just a fucking tease dancing on the stage, letting them see but not touch.” His lips brushed against my ear, and a shiver of disgust rolled over me.

“Stop,” I hissed against his hand.

“Is this the way you treat me, I? We used to be so good together. Five years and so many good times.”

Good times? Hardly. And I hated when he called me I. The name was Indiana. Or Indy.

“I’m gonna move my hand so we can talk, but if you so much as breath too loud, I’ll bury your face in the dirt. Got me?”

I nodded stiffly. I wasn’t going to scream. Five years of being with Grit had taught me he was capable of anything.

He moved his hand, and I inhaled deeply. “What are you doing here?” I bit off.

“That doesn’t sound like you’re happy to see me, baby doll.”

My skin crawled at the gross nickname. Anything that came out of Grit’s mouth was gross, though. I struggled against the hold he had around me, but his arm didn’t budge. “Let me go,” I insisted.

A chuckle rumbled through his body. “Not until we talk.”

“Then talk,” I growled. I didn’t care about anything Grit had to say. I stopped caring two years ago when I left him and Destin behind.

“I see you lost the honey that used to drip off your lips, baby doll.” He squeezed my side and leaned close to my ear. “Used to love that honey.”

How had I ever thought this man was attractive? Young and dumb. That was how. Grit had managed to pull the wool over my eyes when we first met, and by the time I figured out just what scum he was, I was stuck. “Tell me what you want, Grit.”

“I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, I.”

I glared at him. “And that is my problem?” I didn’t fucking think so. I had gotten out from under Grit, and there was no way in hell I was going back there.

“Royal’s fucked, too.”

My stomach dropped. “No.”

Grit released his hold on me. He knew I wasn’t going to scream or run now. “Got into some shit.”

“What the fuck did you do, Grit?” Royal was Grit’s sister, and also the only person left in Destin I cared about. Meeting Royal was the only good thing that came out of Grit’s and my relationship.