xxxii. an ambush
"DENVER!" RINN SCREAMED out, trying to make her way out to the garage. She knew he was by the bar and just walking on her own was a feat, which made her wonder how she was going to ride. Sighing, she stumbled out to the entrance and looked around, watching as Denver spun his chair and glared at her.
"Go back to bed," he demanded, causing her to shake her head and walk closer to where he was. His eyes transformed into slits and he glared her down, causing her to grimace as she held her side and kept a steady pace. He stood, making his way towards where she was, which made her panic slightly.
She didn't want to go back to bed; she had to do something.
"Rinn, now!" He yelled, causing her to shake her head. He groaned, taking another drink from his beer bottle and, through a stern voice, asked, "Why not? Don't you want to heal so you can ride, again?"
"I can ride just fine," she muttered, causing him to humorlessly chuckle.
"Bullshit," he spat back, "You can barely walk. How are you supposed to sit on a bike for more than five minutes without being in pain?"
"Pain," she stated, "I can handle. What I can't handle is being in bed, again, for another week straight. I just got done with that. I wasn't even out of it for a whole day. Just humor me, Denver, okay?"
"Fine," he spat out, helping her over to the bar and sitting her down on one of the barstools. She nodded gratefully at him and David poured her a drink, listening as she began to speak.
"So," she asked, taking a swig, "What do we know?"
"It had to be Irish retaliation. Three of their men were gun down and they have to be blaming the Crows for it. Nothing else makes sense and I know damn well Jackson had the prospects clean up three bodies a couple weeks ago," David explained, causing her to nod and look away from Denver. She didn't want him to see the knowledge she held in her eyes about who killed the three Irishmen.
"Rinn?" Denver asked, catching her attention. She turned her head towards him and raised an eyebrow, causing a look of confusion to cross over his features. For a moment, they were silent. Then, he spoke, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she muttered, seemingly too quickly, "I'm just tired."
He shook his head from side to side, but didn't say anything. Eventually, he walked her out of the bar area and to the van outside. Over a couple drinks, they'd agreed to head back to his house. He had to make a deal tonight, selling off the last of her pills, and then he'd be back to take care of her. The deal was supposed to happen a couple blocks from the edge of town, just a mile from Denver's house.
It didn't take them long to get back to Denver's house. It wasn't far from the garage and he sped almost the entire way there, wanting to drop her off and have enough time to get to the deal early. That's what people liked when they were buying drugs and were impatient; they wanted drugs as soon as possible. It just made Denver look better when he showed up first or close to when the druggie showed up.
Pulling into the driveway, he stopped right in front of the walkway. Rinn insisted she walk into the house, alone. It wasn't for any specific reason, that Denver knew of . . . but she needed alone time; he could tell. She probably wanted to run it through her head in peace, without any distractions from anyone around her, including him.
"I can have Jackson come out and keep you company," Denver offered, causing her to look over at the house and shake her head. She knew that if she looked into his eyes, she'd either beg him to stay or she would accept his invitation for Jackson to come out and stay with her.
YOU ARE READING
Miss Mayhem
Action"Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I don't like the face staring back at me," she whispered, looking down at the floor. Her feet were small in front of his and it was then that she realized how close he really was to her. He frowned, asking, "W...
