lah

Harley crashed onto the beer-slicked dance floor, t

s music cut o

irs of eyes locking onto me through the h

the shattered entryway, their massive leather-clad fram

wn the stand, and pulled off m

oss the room until it

nd Britt's waist, both of them freezing with

recover

ushed red with rage. "Kamilah! What the hell is wrong

slammed my helmet onto the neare

moment you dragged that filthy thief through those door

hrough the older Turne

Kenton, her eyes welling up with practiced

dripping with fake innocence. "I only rode the border route

ld as ice. "A club sweetbutt doesn't spe

ace went

the entire charter struck directly a

ep up to defend his boss, pulling a hunting knife from hi

e another step, Grady di

shifted

ide him moved like a blur, his heavy combat

ll, followed by a high-pitched scream as the

else

the Iron Crown sucked the a

is forearm lazily on the grip of his

ed, his voice flat. "Because I have no problem

ing prospect, sweat beadin

ning back to me. "What

led out a tall stool, and s

said, pointing toward the liquor shelf, "tradition dictates the

utrage. "You want me to se

g my head toward Grady. "I guess Turner

nst his holster, the metallic

and turned on Britt, his voice dropping into

yal, but the stone-faced Iron C

ds, poured two fingers of cheap bourbon int

ut, her jaw t

making sure not to brush her skin,

breath, starti

ked my

oss her face, soaking her makeup, her f