Maverick by Savannah Rylan

Author:Savannah Rylan [Rylan, Savannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pink Empire Publishing
Published: 2018-12-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Maverick

I stormed out of the bar before any of the guys could stop me. My fists curled so tightly into one another that my jagged nails dug into the palms of my hands, causing them to bleed. How the fuck could I have been so stupid? How the hell had I not seen that? She gave me her real fucking name, for crying out loud! And the way she was so eager to stuff everything back into her purse all made sense. Holy shit, that was why she didn’t want me going back to her place. For all I knew, she didn’t live with her parents at all.

I now had a grasp of the situation the club was in, and it wasn’t good.

I raked my hand through my hair, pulling apart the pomade that kept my hair standing on its ends. On the one hand, how the hell was I supposed to know who she was? She was just some hot chick at a bar that wanted my dick. Nothing more, nothing less. How the fuck was I supposed to know she was working for the cartel?

On the other hand, I should have known. I shouldn’t have let her pussy cloud my thoughts. It’s my fucking job to know this shit.

I hopped on my bike as the guys called out after me. But, I left them in my dust. I needed to go on a bike ride to clear my head. To blow off some steam. To get my mind off this and figure out how the hell I was going to cover up my tracks when it came to the daughter of the fucking cartel.

As I rode, our conversation over lunch came swirling back to me. And it only served to make me angrier. All of her damn questions about my club. About the guys I considered brothers. Holy shit, she’d been phishing for information. And there I was, sitting there hoping to get my dick wet thinking some hot little piece of ass was just curious about what I did. No woman was curious about what we did. Not really. So long as we fucked them well, fed them right, and took them on a bike ride, they never asked questions. Live fast and die hard. It’s what we did, and it’s what the women we fucked did as well.

When she started asking me personal questions about the guys, I should have stopped. That should have been a red flag. We got questions all the time from girls, but it wasn’t about what we did for a living. They never outright asked us if we were fucking guns for hire. Holy hell, how had I not seen any of this? Gabby hadn’t been asking about my scars. She’d been asking me for details.

“You’re such a fucking idiot, Maverick!”

I rode down the stretch of deserted highway as quickly as I could. I kicked up dust in my wake, and the more I rode, the angrier I grew. The only saving grace was that I hadn’t given out any last names.

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