Tank’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out and checked the message from the unidentified number.
Watch the ten o’clock news. See you at midnight. Ella.
Ella? He hadn’t given her his number. Damn bitch must have been in his phone while he was asleep. How did she get past his security? He scrubbed his hand over his face. What else had she seen? And what the fuck was going to be on the ten o’clock news?
FIFTEEN
“I’ve never stayed in a place like this.”
Naiya toyed with the ring on her finger as Holt pushed open the door to the penthouse suite of the Conundrum Park Lane Hotel. For a man who professed to hate planning, he’d thought of everything. From ditching the bike to hiding the money and weapons, and from paying off the bus driver to make a pit stop outside of town so he could pick up their bags, to paying him again to drop them off in Conundrum.
“Me neither, but no one was complaining when I paid in cash.” He closed and bolted the door behind them, and Naiya drank it all in. Blending an Art Deco–inspired interior with modern luxury style, the room contained a massive, dark-wood four-poster bed, white-and-cream furnishings, period furniture, and a marble bathroom as big as her living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows took up an entire wall, framing the bright lights of Conundrum spread out below them.
“You can barely see the Bridger Mountains in the dark,” she said. “It looks like the lights just end, and then there’s nothing.”
“The Sinners’ clubhouse is right at the base of the mountains,” Tank said coming up behind her. “If you look real close, you might be able to see a light or two behind the trees. There’s nothing else out there except us, which makes it easy to catch anyone who comes near the clubhouse.”
Us. Unconsciously, he still thought of himself as a Sinner. What would happen to him if he went through with his plan for revenge? Naiya’s life had always been about survival. No one had ever needed her the way Holt needed her. He was lost, alone, confused, and in pain. He was, at heart, a good man, and his plan for revenge—the crutch that had helped him survive in the dungeon—was now tearing him apart. He needed to hear the truth from someone he trusted because if he was wrong about Tank and the Sinners, he would never be able to live with himself. A protector who went against his nature would be destroyed.
“So the Sinners are based outside Conundrum?”
“Technically, we’re still in the border, and everyone understands that it’s our town,” he said, again unconsciously including himself when he referred to his club. “We’ve got a lot of businesses operating within the town limits—strip clubs, night clubs, restaurants, garages, bars…” He pointed to a collection of buildings near the center of town. “That’s Rider’s Bar. It’s a Sinner bar, and when the brothers aren’t at the clubhouse, that’s where they’ll be. Tank and I had our own table at the back. You only get that when you get appointed to the board. Tank called it a chick magnet. The girls were always hanging around those tables.”
Naiya looked back over her shoulder and huffed. “Not that I’m jealous or anything, but I’m not really interested in hearing about all your other women.”
“She’s jealous.” He pressed a kiss to her nape. “I like it.”
“You can like it alone.” She slid away from him and walked toward the bathroom, needing some time alone to think through what she needed to do. “I’m going to take a bath. It’s been too long, and I’m feeling too grungy to be in a place like this.”
“Good idea. I’ll join you.”
Naiya stopped him with a hand in the air. “You’re staying out here to watch the door. I feel like an imposter in this hotel in my dirty beaver shirt, with a duffel bag, a giant bag of cash and two bags of guns. I’m terrified someone is going to burst in and haul us out of here and throw us on the street, or worse, in jail after our little brush with the ATF.”
“Anyone comes through that door, I’ll shoot them.” Holt pulled out his weapon and brandished it at the door.
“That’s sweet in a fucked-up, outlaw-biker kinda way.” She pushed open the bathroom door. “I’ll leave you to it.”
After a long soak in the tub and a scrub with the most expensive toiletries she’d ever had the pleasure of using, Naiya joined Holt on the bed in front of a sixty-inch television.
“What are you watching?” She tightened the belt on her fluffy white bathrobe, giving serious consideration to adding it to their collection of stolen goods when they left the hotel.
“Nothing yet. Three hundred channels so far and nothing appeals.” He tugged on her belt and pulled her against him. “What do you like to watch?”
Naiya nibbled her bottom lip. “Um … you probably won’t be interested.”
“Tell me.”