***Faya***
I’m kind of regretting my decision at this moment. Not concerning Crane, but about staying here at the clubhouse. Because at the cabin I could be sitting in that hot tub soaking while enjoying the view. Ugh. I’m tired. It’s been…I check my watch for the gazillionth time, eight hours. Eight. I’ve been sitting on my ass, that feels like a board I might add. Hence the sweet thought of the hot tub.
“He’ll be here soon.” Ronin’s voice comes from my left as he slides a steaming cup of coffee in front of me.
“Thanks. I do hope so because I should have said I wanted to wait at the cabin,” I grumble.
“Why?” Ronin’s eyebrow raises. “Thinking of making a run for it?”
The look I’m wearing on my face makes him take a step back. “Hey, don’t throw the coffee at me, okay? I’m not pulling any shit like Romeo. I’m just making conversation.”
Something clicks inside my head. Maybe Crane did want to give me the choice to leave him. Like I ever would.
“My parents were killed in a car accident when I was eight. I was in and out of the system until I was sixteen. That’s when I had enough, because the last family thought it was okay for me to be used as their personal punching bag. An item to blame everything on that went wrong in their life. Oh, you know their favorite thing was placing me in the back yard and shooting their BB gun? Yeah, that had me digging out pellets for hours. So believe me when I know if a person does something for personal gain, or because he feels like the other person deserves it. Crane makes me feel like I deserve it. He looks at me like…” Shit. My throat clogs up with emotion.
I’m talking to a rough ass biker about feelings I’ve never even had myself or even think Crane, or the guy wearing a leather cut in front of me are capable of.
“By all means, don’t stop talking now.” I hear Crane growl behind me.
Swirling around, I launch myself at him. He catches me with ease with one arm while he’s holding a bag in the other.
He nuzzles my neck as he murmurs, “How do I look at you, sweetheart?”
I grab his face with both hands, staring at him while he gives me the look I talked about. “Like you want to consume me, like I belong to be looked at by you, and you alone.”
“Yeah, that’s too sappy for my ears. I’m gonna go get drunk and wrap a cunt around my cock.” Ronin strolls past us. “Happy trails to the mushy couple,” he bellows while cheers ignite around us.
“Yo, Ronin, hold up,” Crane says as he throws the bag he’s holding at Ronin.
“Ah, the evidence to show the client. He will be pleased there won’t be a war he needs to handle, with you eliminating his rival.” Ronin opens the bag and glances inside. “That’s…actually not looking quite as messy as it normally is.”
Crane snorts. “That’s because you can prevent a mess when you seal it by pressing a hot knife against it that’s been held into fire a second before.”
“There’s a nice tip to add with instructions next time I have to send some of the other idiots around here to do the job.” Ronin nods, a look of appreciation on his face.
I’m curious as to what’s inside. Taking a step toward Ronin, I ask, “What’s in the bag?”
Ronin raises his eyebrow at Crane, who I can feel is standing behind me now. Ronin nods as he holds out the open bag for me to glance inside. Once I do, I recognize the face that’s staring back at me. Tico Borgio. The mob boss who killed my roommate. The one who wanted to kill me, no…take me, or torture me. Never fucking mind what he wanted…he doesn’t want shit now. He’s dead. Crane cut off his head.
Relief fills me. Turning around, I poke Crane in the chest. “So that’s what you were doing while I was sitting on my ass here for hours.”
He nods slowly, his face blank as if he’s not sure how to handle this, how I’m gonna handle this.
A huge smile spreads my face. “Nice work. Definitely worth a sore ass. Damn uncomfortable chair makes me feel like my ass is a flat board.” I look back at Ronin. “Might wanna get some better chairs.”
“Noted.” Ronin chuckles. “And Crane…if you ever run into a woman like her…throw her my way. I need me one of those.”
Crane pulls me against him and plants a quick kiss on my lips. “Impossible,” he tells Ronin. “She’s one of a kind and all mine. Come on, Pickles.” He smacks my ass. “Let’s get out of here.”
Couldn’t agree more.