Rowan scowls. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he hit me so fucking hard that he fractured my cheekbone and he seemed so angry in that moment but the rest of the night, he was perfectly charming and nice… I don’t know... It was like he became a different person,” she sighs and shakes her head. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help.”
I stand up and grab my phone off of the coffee table as I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. We’re all kind of spinning our wheels here but I knew this was a long shot. I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me, though.”
“If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know. I want to help.”
“That would be great,” I tell her, pulling one of the club’s business cards out of my back pocket and writing my cell number on the back before handing it to her. “You can reach me at that number.”
She takes it and nods, before frowning. “I am sorry about all of this… and I’m sorry again that I couldn’t be more help. If I could fix what I did, I would.”
“Look,” I say, sighing. “What you did was fucked up but you were also a pawn in this guy’s game and I don’t really think you would have done this if he hadn’t been buying you alcohol all night and coercing you into it.”
“Thank you for saying that,” she whispers and I nod as Rowan stands. Tawny hops off of the bar stool and walks us to the door, promising again to call if she thinks of anything before we leave. As soon as we’re outside, Rowan slips her hand into mine again and I glance down at her.
“You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah… just fucking frustrated.”
“Let’s go get some food. I always think better after I eat something,” she says and there is no room for argument in her tone but oddly, I don’t give a shit.
“Yes, ma’am.” I laugh as I release her hand and throw my arm over her shoulders, pulling her into my body. My stomach growls, as if on cue, but even if I wasn’t starving, there is no way in hell I would turn down an opportunity to spend a little more time with her. Not when she makes me feel like maybe I actually have a chance of solving this and saving my club.
Chapter Seven
Rowan
“Here are your pancakes and bacon,” the waitress says as she sets a heaping plate of food in front of me with a smile. After she’s pulled a container of syrup out of her apron and set it on the table next to my plate, she turns to Travis and sets his plate in front of him. “And the hash brown scrambler with sausage and gravy for you. Is there anything else y’all need right now?”
Her gaze flicks between the two of us as I inspect the table for a moment and when I look up at her, I shake my head. She glances over at Travis as he does the same, flashing her a friendly smile. “Naw, I think we’re good. Thanks, Mia.”
“No problem, Streak. Just holler if you need anything else.” She returns his smile before walking away from the table and after she disappears into the kitchen, I turn to back to Travis.
“You come here often?”
He smirks. “Is that your best line?”
“Shut up,” I shoot back, rolling my eyes as I resist the urge to pick up one of the jelly packets and throw it at him. “I just meant because you two obviously know each other.”
“We don’t really know each other, if that’s what you mean, but Tate used to work here before she married your brother and Mia is a friend of hers.”
“Oh, I see.”
“But, listen,” he whispers, lowering his voice as he leans in and flashes me a devilish grin. “If you want to fuck again, all you gotta do is ask, sweetheart.”
I arch a brow. “I thought we had already agreed that it definitely would be happening again. And again and again…”
“Maybe I just want to hear you beg for it,” he answers with a grin that makes my belly do a little flip and my mind jumps back to last night when he had me pressed up against the window… and on all fours on the bed… and pressed up against the wall. Jesus Christ, how the hell am I even walking this morning? Lifting my chin in an act of defiance, I cross my arms over my chest and meet his gaze.
“And what if I want to hear you beg for it?”
He laughs. “Never going to happen.”
“Don’t underestimate me, Travis. I have tricks you haven’t seen yet,” I tell him and his eyes snap up to meet mine as a slow smile stretches across his face and he shakes his head.
“Fuck. That turns me on.”
Smiling, I grab my fork and cut into my pancakes, feeling pretty damn pleased with myself as Travis subtly tries to adjust himself under the table. My breath hitches as I remember what it felt like when he slid inside me last night and my skin tingles with need.
How in the hell am I still ready for more?
“So,” I whisper before clearing my throat and glancing up at him. We definitely need a new subject before we end up slipping into the bathroom for a quickie or fucking in his sexy car. He arches a brow, watching me with a knowing look in his eye.
“So?”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on with the club and this threat that everyone keeps talking about?”
His mood darkens in an instant and he shakes his head. “Sorry, can’t. It’s club business.”
“I see…”
I don’t see.
Not at all.
“But shouldn’t I know since I’m technically involved now? I mean, I’m living there with you all and my brother is one of this guy’s targets, right? I have a right to know what’s going on.”
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Fine,” I answer with a huff but my mind is still spinning, trying to find an angle to use against him that he can’t argue with. Another idea hits me and I brace my elbows on the table. “But what if me not knowing gets someone hurt? Or it gets me hurt? Isn’t it better that I have all the information so I can make smart, informed decisions?”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he asks, studying me and I shake my head. His gaze narrows and he glares at me for a second before he sighs. “All right but if Blaze asks, I didn’t tell you shit.”
“Deal.”
Scowling, he stares down at the table, deep in thought, and I watch him for a second before clearing my throat.
“Uh, Travis?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry… it’s just hard to know where to even start.”
“The beginning sounds like a good place,” I offer, half sarcastically, and he scoffs, shaking his head.
“This is going to sound stupid but I’m not really sure when it all really began. It’s hard to keep track of everything now and remember when shit went down. Plus, each time I learn something new, I’ve got to figure out how it fits into everything.”
“Have you ever watched those true crime shows or CSI?” I ask and he shakes his head as he leans back in his seat and takes a sip of coffee.
“No. I don’t watch a lot of TV.”
“Okay, well, in those shows, you always see a big fucking board with all the evidence laid out in a timeline and I think maybe that’s what you need. Besides, if you can see it in front of you, all at once, maybe you’ll notice something you didn’t notice before.”