Chaos Bound (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #4)(88)

Skyler paled. “He’s a fed? What if he—?”

“He won’t,” Banks assured her. “Not unless you’ve been in contact with anyone back home.”

“No.” She shook her head violently. “The Sinners have been real good to me. I wouldn’t rat them out, and there’s no one at home I want to talk to.”

“Good girl.” His face softened, and for a moment Naiya wondered if there was something between them. But Skyler looked to be two or three years younger than her, and Banks was … Well it was hard to figure out how old he was. Thirty? Maybe a year or two less?

Naiya braced herself when she heard footsteps, the scrape of a stool beside her, the rustle of a suit, and the heavy stench of cologne.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“Yes.” Naiya fought back a wave of nausea when Michael sat on the stool beside her, impeccably dressed in his “I’m-a-federal-agent-attire”—dark suit, white shirt, and tight smile. “What a coincidence.”

Michael lifted a dark eyebrow. “I thought you and your man were heading to Idaho Springs.”

“We’re taking the scenic route.” She unclenched her hands and placed them on the counter. No point giving away her anxiety that easily, although there was nothing she could do about the sweat beading on her brow.

“What can I get you?” Banks asked Michael with a scowl. “We got a cop special on today. Water. Wet.”

“Perrier. Ice and a slice of lemon.” Seemingly unfazed by Banks’ calling him out, Michael smiled. “I’m on duty.”

“I’ll bet you are,” Banks muttered.

Naiya stared at the counter while Banks prepared the drink, wondering if Michael would indeed chase her if she ran.

“Where is…?” Michael hesitated. Frowned. “Was it your husband? Boyfriend? I don’t remember his name. Just that you had five kids.” He stared pointedly at Naiya’s stomach, and she pooched it out like she’d just had a big meal.

“Four,” she said, quickly. What an idiot trying to pull the same trick on her. “He went … out … to get me … anti-nausea medicine.” Since she was about to throw up and was no doubt pale and clammy, the lie would no doubt carry a ring of truth.

“Alcohol, medicine, and babies don’t mix.” Michael tapped her vodka glass and Naiya swallowed past the lump in her throat. God, she really needed that drink now.

“It’s water.”

“In a highball glass?” He reached for her drink. “Mind if I have a sip. I’m parched.”

“I’ll freshen it up for you.” Skyler reached between them and grabbed the glass. “Actually, I’ll just get you a new glass.” She smiled at Michael. “And you, too.”

Michael’s lips quirked amused. “My apologies. I didn’t think it would be untoward since we’re friends.”

“We’re not friends,” Naiya snapped.

“Hmmm.” Michael stroked his chin. “Well, I hope we’re not enemies. We had such a nice chat the other night in Trenton. You were wearing that cute Bolton Beaver sweatshirt. You know, I liked it so much that I drove down to Bolton so I could buy one for my nephew. It’s his twenty-second birthday next week.”

Naiya drew in a deep breath, gritted her teeth. He was still fishing for information, but there was no damn way he was getting anything from her. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Well, it would have been.” Michael sighed. “But I couldn’t get one the right size. It seems the only place you can buy them is at the Yates Motel, and they sold the last of their supply to a woman with dark hair and hazel eyes who was the exact same size as my nephew.”

“That’s a shame.” Her hand trembled. Banks poured a glass of water and pushed it across the counter, his fingers brushing over hers in a fleeting gesture that did much to calm her nerves.

You are not alone.





TWENTY-FOUR

“Holt! Holt!”

Holt parked his bike outside Rider’s Bar and gestured to Shaggy to wait as Ally ran across the street with a pasty-faced dude in tow. Where the f*ck was Doug and why was he letting his woman run around in a biker town unprotected?

“Who the f*ck?” Shaggy muttered.

“Naiya’s best friend. Don’t know the guy she’s with. Her husband is a cop, but he’s a good guy. Not someone who’ll rat us out.”

“Have you seen Naiya?” Ally’s face creased with worry. “We were supposed to meet her at the hotel and then she sent me a text telling me to meet her at this bar, but the bouncer at the door says it’s a private club and he wouldn’t let us in. He said he’d never heard of you or Naiya.”

“Who’s on the door?” Holt asked Shaggy under his breath.

“One of Banks’s new hires. Civilian. Doesn’t know all the brothers yet.”

The dude tugged on Ally’s arm, and pulled her to the side. “I don’t think you should be talking to them,” he said, making a poor effort at keeping his voice low. “They’re bikers. Real bikers. They are the last people Naiya would ever hang out with.”

“I know Holt.” Ally pulled her hand away. “And so does Naiya. He’s a good guy, Maurice. He helped her escape.”