Sinner's Revenge (Sinner's Creed MC #2)(70)

“First off,” she begins, pointing her finger at me. “There is no us and nothing is going on. We broke up. Remember?”

I roll my eyes to the roof, twisting my lips in confusion. “Nope. I don’t remember that. The way I see it, we had a disagreement. Happens all the time with couples, from what I hear. You should know that. You were married once. Remember?”

“How can I forget?” she asks, her eyes taking on a dreamy state. “The honeymoon was the best part.” My jaw tightens and she smiles at my reaction.

I lean back in my seat. If I’ve learned anything from being around women, it’s that they hate to be ignored. Pulling my earbuds from my bag, I plug them into my iPod and put it on shuffle. She says something, so to drown her out, I cut the volume up and look out the window. Eventually, she gives up and turns back around.

I close my eyes, knowing I’m too pissed now to sleep, but trying like hell anyway. Time passes and just when I start to doze off, the universe f*cks me once again and “Girl Crush” by Lady Antebellum plays, reminding me that I won’t ever be able to forget what we had. And as long as I’m in this life, I’ll never be able to escape her either.


*

My phone vibrating in my pocket wakes me. It takes a moment for me to remember where I am. I look around the car and Diem is asleep, Clark still has his headphones on, the car is completely silent, and Rookie is looking at me. His eyes move to the floorboard and I follow them to find a cell phone laying at his feet. His gaze shifts to the back of Diem’s seat, then back to me. She must have dropped it.

He raises his eyebrows, silently suggesting that I pick the damn thing up. I don’t know why he wants me to snoop around, but my curiosity is getting the better of me by the second. My hand in my lap, I turn my thumb up so he can see, and his foot pushes the phone over to me. Stretching, I can feel Clark’s eyes on me in the rearview mirror and I yawn, then lean my head against the back of his seat like I’m napping.

I position the phone in my lap so that if Diem wakes, she won’t see me with it. Sliding my finger across the screen, I find it locked and smile. Some days, it is good to be a nerd. I crack the code and scroll through her apps.

Candy Crush—predictable.

Menstrual Cycle Tracker—ugh.

MyFace—of course.

Fitness Pal—naturally.

I scroll through her contacts, smiling when I find two hearts, a knife, and a gun emoji next to Zeke’s name. There is only one text that is still unread. I don’t have to open it to read the small message displayed on the screen.

Do it.

Hopefully, whoever Tampa is, isn’t giving her an order to kill me. I have two guns on me, one behind my back and the other strapped to my ankle. I make a note to keep them close even in my sleep.

The inbox in her email is empty and so is the trash file. Outgoing messages have been wiped too. If I knew I had the time, I could find anything that has ever been on her phone, but I don’t. So, I go to her gallery and discover that Diem is a selfie queen. Duck faces, smiles, pissed-off looks, edited pictures, and bathroom pics go on for pages. Then I come to pictures of me.

They were all taken when I wasn’t looking. I’m in the bar, at Dirk’s house, on my bike, and even some from when she was staying with me at home. Did she have a phone the whole time? If so, where the hell did she hide it?

My temper spikes when I come across a photo of her with another guy. She’s taking a selfie with him at what looks like a bar. His arm is around her waist. Her head is on his shoulder. And what pisses me off more than the fact that they look too comfortable, is the patch he’s wearing—Death Mob. And what’s worse than that is I recognize him.

It’s Fin.

I shoot the picture to my phone, then delete the message. Diem is still asleep, so without drawing any attention to myself, I slide the phone under her seat. Leaning back, I study the picture from my own phone a minute before I send it to Rookie. The date was months ago, but she was alone with him only days ago. Was she playing us both?


Don’t do anything stupid.

Rookie’s text has me cutting my eyes at him. Then texting back.


I’m not an amateur . . . ROOKIE.

He smirks, putting his phone back in his pocket. The clock on the dash reads a quarter after eleven, and I’m ready for some lunch and to take a piss.

As if she could hear my thoughts, Diem wakes up seeming dazed and confused. Looking in the backseat, she raises an eyebrow at me, looks over at Rookie, then finally to Clark. “I’m f*cking starving. Let’s eat.”

He nods. “We’re almost to Allentown, ma’am,” he says, his voice cool and level.

“Shit! Already?” she asks in a panic, looking around for her phone. She’s searching the seat and the floor and her purse and I’ve never seen her like this. It’s pretty comical. “I can’t find my f*cking phone!” she roars, and I wonder if it’s the “Do it” message she’s so anxious to read.

“Look between the console and your seat,” I suggest, leaning forward in an attempt to help her. She’s digging, her breathing coming in quick bursts. Damn, she really is in a panic. Feeling sorry for her, I grab the phone, pushing it toward her fingers.

“Wait,” she says, concentrating hard while her arm is shoved down in the side of the seat. “I think I felt it.” Pulling her arm out, she holds the phone in her hand, furiously punching in the code and retrieving the message. I lean back and watch her as she lets out a sigh of relief. Then turning to Clark she says, “We’ll be staying in Allentown tonight.”