“You look sexy as hell with my name on you,” Drex says. No one has ever accused him of being humble.
I smile about the claiming, like the idiot I am.
But his smile falls as his phone buzzes. He looks down, and he holds up a finger, gesturing for me to stay put, as he walks off to answer it.
Axle is left alone with me as the two other guys walk over to speak to Drake, who has come outside. I look at Axle, who is looking anywhere but at me.
In the sunlight, I notice that big scar isn’t the only scar on his face. He has a smaller one that goes vertically over his lip, curling down to his chin, and two on his right eyebrow that seem to cause very thin spots where hair can’t grow—they ride up into his hairline. That had to have been something massive.
He catches me staring too hard, and his eyes narrow threateningly. Immediately I clear my throat, feeling like an ass.
“I never thanked you,” I say quietly.
His look softens, but he doesn’t speak. Only nods.
Drex’s arms wrap around my waist, tugging me back against him as his chin rests on top of my head. To the outside world, we look like a normal couple right now.
“We’re going home,” Drex announces. I thought that was the plan anyway.
“Home?” Axle asks in surprise.
“Yeah. Pop says he wants to cool things down for a week or two. He’s moving our business dates back a few weeks. There are three cars camped outside the warehouse right now. He worries they know something, even though I don’t know how they would.”
I don’t want to hear this. I don’t need to hear this. However, Drex and Axle keep speaking in front of me as though they aren’t worried about what I overhear.
“Shit,” Axle grumbles, not seeming happy about any of this. “Fine. I’ll see you when I see you then.”
Drex talks about meeting at the club next week, while I try to figure things out. Is he sending everyone away?
Finally, he tugs me toward his bike, and I follow without protest. The second I’m behind him with my helmet on, my legs firmly clamped against him, and my arms around his tight middle, the beast beneath us roars to life.
Chapter 23
EVE
When he said we were going home, I of course assumed he meant the warehouse. Instead, we’re at Drex’s house. For the first time. And it’s nothing like I was expecting.
It’s not a huge house, but it’s bigger than I thought it’d be. Much bigger. And there’s a damn pool. Which in Texas, that’s not too surprising, but often times the droughts restrict water supplies, so I’ve never figured out how that works.
We’re isolated here. In fact, I only noticed a few houses within a few miles during the drive here. It’s nowhere near the warehouse. It actually took us close to an hour to get here. I don’t even know where here is exactly.
The inside is all modern, sleek, industrial, and pristine. I mean, you can’t tell a bachelor lives here, because it’s that spotless.
A massive TV is mounted on one wall, with an array of neatly assorted gaming systems. Several pieces of black leather furniture decorate the living space.
The kitchen is a gourmet kitchen. I don’t picture Drex as the cooking type, but he’s in there right now, cooking something for my growling guts. And it smells so damn good.
He’s also distracted. He’s spent most of the time we’ve been here on his phone after the brief tour. There are two bedrooms, but he said I’d be in his. Which means I’ll be able to sleep. Sadly, I don’t feel safe without him. Yet he seems to think I’m a tough girl.
His presence gives me false bravado, because somehow, I know he’s got my back.
He did something weird with some machine the second we got here. He flicked it on, but it never made a noise or did anything. But he said he didn’t want to take chances of bugs in the house. Apparently it has something that jams those sorts of devices.
I feel like I’m living in an entirely different world.
Drex walks into the living room with a frown on his face.
“You need to call your mom and let her know you’re good. She’s been at the police station looking for you.”
My stomach sinks and my heart plummets. Shit.
“Okay,” I say hoarsely, pulling out the phone he gave me a while back. I’ve never even used it before.
I chance a glance at him to see he’s studying me.
“Why don’t you want to talk to her? You know by now I don’t want to hurt her? Why would I?”
There’s a hint of an accusatory tone in there, as to say, “What are you hiding?” He doesn’t understand.
Instead of answering the unspoken question, I take a deep breath and steel myself for the call.