Crave (Bayonet Scars #5.5)

With Amber distracted, I take a minute to be with Diesel. I place my hands on his pecs and sigh heavily. I refuse to think either of us is going to get hurt. It just doesn’t feel like that kind of day, but I need this time with him before chaos ensues.

“Thank you,” I say. He opens his mouth to respond, but I stop him before he even gets started. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing or remind me that you have my back. Just let me thank you for doing something you don’t have to do.”

“You never have to thank me for being here for you.”

“But I do.” I’m pushing the topic, even though we really do need to get moving, because I want him to hear me. Not every man is so willing to put his ass out on a limb like this. Not every man cares enough.

“We’re real,” he says. His hands travel up and down my arms as he pulls me in against his chest. “We're real, and that scares the hell out of you.”

I suck in a deep breath and hold it in as long as I can. It comes out shaky. My hands are unsteady, and my head is doing that foggy thing again. This is a dangerous time for my brain to turn to mush.

“Are we now?” I raise an eyebrow and try to fight off the way his words make me feel, but it’s useless. I love him. I guess this is just a part of being in love.

“As real as anything fucking gets, Little Bird.”

He tips my chin up and takes my mouth. He’s commanding and smooth and so, so perfect. I melt into his touch, forgetting where we are. I breathe him in when we break apart and reluctantly walk away. We can’t do this here. It’s a terrible time to get all hot and heavy.

“Just so you know,” I say, looking over my shoulder with a smile on my face, “you’re stuck with me now.”

“Nobody I’d rather be stuck with, babe,” Diesel says and kisses my shoulder as he walks ahead of me. A shiver runs down my spine.

“You two make me sick,” Amber mutters from beside me. We spread out, each of us with a hand on the guns on our hips, ready to pull and fire when ready.

Diesel leads us into the woods behind cabin twenty-five. The trees are thick enough to provide a camouflage for us as we approach. It’s not enough to be completely unseen either, though, and with the plethora of wildlife in the area, there’s enough noise to make it near impossible to tell the difference between human and animal sounds. Still, we trudge on into the depth of the woods, doing our best to avoid detection. Coming up on cabin twenty-eight, we each find a tree to hide behind. The cabin is super small but well kept, and it’s the best hidden rental we’ve seen since getting here. The other cabins have a clearing of at least five feet on each side, but not cabin twenty-eight. This one has bushes and trees pushing up against the sides of it. As far as hideout cabin rentals go, this one is pretty top notch. But just like Forsaken’s safe house and Ian’s cabin, nothing can stay hidden forever.

I try to keep my head in the game, checking the area around me. Diesel’s got the closest position to the cabin, with me on his left, and Amber on his right. I know she’s cool under pressure, but this is asking a lot, even for her. She seems steady enough. She’s got perfect form, I can’t see any shaking of her limbs, and there’s this stillness about her. I look to Diesel and find the same calm about him. Amber’s childhood was pretty similar to mine. That’s kind of how it is when you’re a club kid. You grow up knowing the awful things that happen in the world, never being shielded from the violence, and always paying attention to how the brothers carry themselves. They’re not always around to keep us safe and shit happens.

Diesel picks up a large rock, gives us his signal, and throws the rock at the cabin. The rock hits at the bottom corner of one of the front windows, creating a small crack in the glass but a loud enough noise to startle whoever may be inside. If we’re lucky, it’s just Rig and Zander. If we’re not, we’ll find out.

Moments later, Zander rushes out the one and only exit I see. Amber stiffens in place but takes a deep breath and waits for Diesel’s signal. He’s wearing the same clothes Amber described him as wearing the other day when he went missing, but he looks pretty clean. He stands tall, with an annoyed glare at the bushes in front of him. Diesel gives me the signal, and I poke my head out so Zander can see me. I have a good line of sight on him, but just when I do, Rig rushes out of the cabin with a gun in his hand. He grabs Zander’s upper arm and pulls him back toward the front door.

“What’d I say about running out like that?” Rig shouts and replaces his hand on Zander’s neck from his arm. Zander pulls away, his jaw locked and irritation obvious in his eyes.

Amber moves her feet, causing a branch to snap beneath her. She curses quietly to herself, but it’s too late. Rig’s heard something. He raises the gun to Zander’s head and tries to pull him back into the cabin. Zander resists but not well enough for me to leave it up to him. I holster my gun back on my hip and step out from behind the tree with my arms raised.