Gypsy king

At least, it had been until Bryce Ryan had shown up with her yellow notepad and goddamn curiosity.

I wouldn’t let her ruin this new life we’d built. I wouldn’t let her threaten my family. The only way I could protect us was by getting the information first.

“Tell me about Amina Daylee.”

Dad blew out a long breath. “Not today.”

“Dad—”

“Please. One day. Give me one day. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

I frowned but nodded. Then I changed direction, driving him home instead of to the garage. We didn’t speak as I wound through town. When I parked in the driveway of my childhood home, I stayed in my seat. “Tomorrow.”

He opened the door and nodded. “Tomorrow.”

With his head hanging low, he walked to the side door of the house and went inside.

We only used the side door at Dad’s place. The front door hadn’t been used in years. Even the mailman knew to drop packages at the side entrance.

Because none of us would walk up the front sidewalk. Not Dad. Not Nick. Not me. None of us would set foot on the place where Mom’s blood had once stained the cement. You couldn’t see the stain anymore. The rain and snow and sun had worn it away.

But it was still there.

Nick and I had both tried to get Dad to move out of that house. There were too many memories there, too many reminders of what we’d lost.

But those memories had a different effect on Dad. He stayed in that house because it was where he’d lived with Mom. To him, she was in the walls. The ceiling. The floor.

He’d die in that house before letting her go.

A chill crept over my skin and I shook it off, reversing out of the driveway and heading to work. When I pulled into the parking lot of the garage, I was in a shit mood.

Why would Dad need a day? Why wouldn’t he want to talk about Amina and how she’d been killed? Didn’t he want to find the person who’d framed him?

Had Bryce been right? Did he have sex with Amina? Who was that woman besides an old high school friend? To my knowledge, Dad hadn’t been with a woman since Mom had died. Maybe to punish himself. Maybe because he didn’t want another woman in his life. Sleeping with Amina would have broken one hell of a streak.

It unsettled me some, the idea of Dad with anyone else. He’d been loyal to Mom. Always. He hadn’t done anything wrong. So why was this bothering me?

I walked into the garage and found Emmett underneath the hood of a Chevy truck. “Hey.”

He looked past me, searching for Dad. “Where is he?”

“At home.”

“What?” He scowled. “We need to talk.”

“I know. But he wants a day. We’ll give it to him.”

“Who wants a day?” Leo asked, walking up to us with a bottle of water tipped to his lips.

“Dad.”

The water bottle dropped from his mouth. “Fuck that. We need answers. If it’s the Warriors setting him up then we need to—”

I held up a hand, my eyes cutting over to Isaiah, who was working in the next bay. “Not now.”

He nodded, clamping his mouth shut.

We all trusted Isaiah as a mechanic, but we weren’t going to get into old club business with him around—not just for our sake, but for his.

“Let’s just . . . be patient.”

Emmett scoffed. “Something the three of us excel at.”

“Yeah.” I took the phone from my pocket and walked over to a workbench, setting it and my keys on top. Then I looked at the workboard. The guys had the normal stuff covered, so I’d get to work on the Mustang. Work is good.

I could use some time with my tools and an engine. I could use some grease on my hands and time to think. Because come tonight, I needed to have a plan for dealing with Bryce Ryan.

I needed a plan for getting her onto my side.

“GET OFF MY PORCH.”

I chuckled, tipping the beer bottle to my lips. “Hello, Bryce.”

“What are you doing here?” She stood in front of me, her hands planted on her hips. “How did you know where I live?”

“Do you really want to know?” I doubted she’d want to hear that I’d been following her around for days.

“No.” She’d come from the gym because her hair was up in a ponytail, a few tendrils near her temples still damp with sweat. Her black leggings molded to her lean legs. Her tank top was tight around her breasts and stomach, leaving only her graceful arms bare.

My dick jerked to life as I pictured peeling those clothes from her body, setting all her curves free. Best not to think about her naked, not when I was trying my new tactic.

“Beer?” I nodded to the six-pack by my boot, which now only had three bottles.

“I’ll pass.”

“More for me then.” I shrugged.

“Now that you know I don’t want a beer, take them and go home.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?” She tapped a foot on the sidewalk. “Just hop on your bike and be on your way.”

“You weren’t here. You made me wait for you and I got thirsty. So I had to drink three beers. Can’t drive now. Someone will have to come and get me.”

“I’ll call you a cab.”

“Can’t.”

“Why?” The tapping foot got faster. God, it was fun pissing her off.

“My bike. Can’t leave it on the street. Have to take it home.”

“So you’re just going to sit on my porch until you’re sober enough to drive home?”

“If you insist.”

She growled at me, then bent low to take a beer from the pack. Off came the cap with a twist, but instead of putting it to that supple lower lip, she surprised me yet again.

She poured my beer onto the lawn.

“What the—” I shot off the single concrete step, reaching for the bottle. But she put her shoulder in my way, blocking me, as my perfectly good beer soaked into the green grass. “Is there a reason you’re wasting my beer?”

“Yeah. I want you off my porch.” She set the empty bottle down and reached for the pack again. This time it was my turn to block her. “Relax. I’ll drink the other two and maybe by the time they’re gone, you will be too.”

I put my finger in her face. “Pour another one out and next time I’ll show up with a case.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

I sat first, taking a beer out and twisting off the top. I gave her another warning stare before handing it over.

She took a small sip. “So back to my first question. What are you doing here?”

“Getting to know you better.”

“And why is that?”

“Let’s call it curiosity.” I took a long drink. “You’re kind of boring. You go in to the paper early every morning. Your dad is always there first. Then Santa Claus. Then you. Everyone else comes and goes, but you three keep a fairly regular schedule.”

If I surprised her by knowing her routine, she didn’t let on. She just sipped her beer, her eyes locked on the quiet street ahead of us. “That’s the downside of being in charge.”

“Sometimes you walk to the coffee shop on Central, though not every day. Lunch is usually at your desk unless you’re ru

Bryce took a longer swig of her beer and the color rose in her face. It was the only sign that I was getting to her, but it was enough. “Anything else?”

I leaned an inch closer, the heat of her bare arm burning into mine. With our skin nearly touching, I bent my neck so I could talk right into her ear. “You hate doing laundry.”

She turned, barely missing my nose with her own and narrowed her eyes. “How’d you know that? Did you break into my house or something too?”