“I didn’t want to be an Ol’ Lady. I was tapping out at property of Doc and medic extraordinaire.”

Shotgun snickers. “Funny. We heard the exact opposite.”

“What?” I croak.

“Scar was bragging about his sweet little nursemaid, who would make the club look downright civilized when she became the club queen.”

“No. I told Scar no. So many times.” My lower lip trembles as anger blazes through me like a flash of fire. “I would never be with a man like him.”

“You sure? Being on his arm comes with a lot of power,” Tank drawls.

“Fuck power. All I have ever wanted was happiness.” I yell. Jumping, I cover my mouth. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Tank nod. “You sound sincere.”

“I am.” Head spinning, I run through the scenarios popping up in my head. What was Scar going to do? Force me? Or had his ego been so big he couldn’t conceive of not winning me over? I’m sickened by the implications

“I don’t know,” Speedy says. His raspy voice scrapes along my nerves. “To hear him tell it, you were a done deal. Figured you’d been dating for a while.”

“Not even once.” I shake my head and close my eyes. The nightmare won’t stop. “Why would he lie about this?” I sneer.

“That’s a good question, Nadia,” Shotgun’s icy voice earns my gaze. The knot in my stomach grows at his undisguised disbelief and scorn. Did I escape death only to find I’m destined to die today, regardless?

“You’ve known me nearly my entire life, Tank. I’m not a liar.” I beg him to believe me with my eyes.

“How can we be certain that never changed?” Speedy rasps.

“Check my phone calls. My apartment, car mileage. Whatever the hell you need to do. You won’t find anything because all I do is work other than a happy hour every couple of weeks with my girlfriends. They limited my time at the clubhouse for medical purposes or to see my dad briefly. I don’t know what they had going on. You know the rules as well as I do.” Women are told next to nothing because A. It’s a boy’s club and B. They can’t tell what they don’t know. It’s a safeguard for all parties involved.

“Let’s say I believe you,” Tank says softly. Relief floods my body, and my shoulders slump with the reprieve from condemnation. “That still leaves us at an impasse. What’s going to keep you from talking?”

I open my mouth and close it. Promises from young girls with no connection to the Kings of Chaos mean nothing to them.

“The others are going to come. They’ll want to know everything. It’s suspicious that you are the sole survivor of a massacre without seeing something.”

“I–o one needs to know I was there that night,” I whisper.

“Ahhh. We circle back to that five-letter word. Trust,” Shotgun replies.

I look at the row of the unflinching men with harsh faces, and despair blooms in my chest. “I don’t know what I can say to reassure you.”

“You can’t,” Tank answers sadly.

Digging my nails into the fleshy palms of my hands, I hyperventilate. There’s no way out of this. The Feral Wolves are going to pull me into death with them, kicking and screaming.

“I can.” Cutter’s deep voice sliced through the tension.

“You vouching for her?” Tank asks.

“I am.”

“Not good enough,” Shotgun snaps.

“Thinking with your dick is never a good ideal, homie,” Speedy adds.

“You going to insult me like that?” Cutter asks coldly.

“Look. You want to make this right with us? Make us comfortable with it,” Tank suggests.

Tags: Shyla Colt Crime
Source: www.StudyNovels.com
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