Page 84 of Off the Rails

Even as Cyrus parallel parked the Cadillac in Valemont’s town center, all I could think about was Blade’s hands on my body. It didn’t help that the display of veins and negative-space tattoos made her hands look strong and vascular.

As I reached for my door handle, Blade darted across the seats to grab my wrist. “No way, Trinket. I’ll get that.”

She hopped out of her seat and into the road, running around the side to pull open my door.

But when the door opened, it was Nash who flashed a wink. “Come on, Sweet Lamb.”

Blade growled her annoyance as she came to a stop just in front of the rear passenger door. “Fuck off, Nash. You stole my move.”

I took Blade’s hand as I descended the huge Escalade.

“Hurry up.” Cyrus snapped back at us as she waited a few feet away, straightening the cuff of her brown, waxed-cotton jacket. I was surprised the tight, stiff material could contain her muscular frame.

Despite how rude and cruel Cyrus was, there was no denying that she was hot. Even if I’d never admit it.

We’d been out all day, running errands and picking up toiletries for me. If I was going to be in Feverpoint for another month, I needed a few things to make it more comfortable — namely more clean underwear.

I was still watching my money. Between my lack of shifts at the club and a few poorly placed bets on Lionshare, I’d worn through a lot of the twenty grand I’d already won.

Not that I needed to have much. Blade and Nash had been fighting to reach the card readers before me at every store.

A few places had refused to let us pay, saying hello to Cyrus and waving us off when we tried to pay.

Crossing the sidewalk, the four of us had to dodge oncoming pedestrians as we entered Perkatory. Inside, it was bustling. Two baristas zipped back and forth behind the service counter.

Customers mingled, catching up. While others stirred their creamer of choice into their white paper cups, the signature design — a frothed-skull atop of perfect latte — stamped onto the side.

“It’s busy.” I muttered, my brows furrowed.

“All things return to normal.” Nash nodded, assured.

As true as I knew that to be, Valemont had fallen back into its normal touristy vibes quite quickly. It had only been a few months since that biker gang dragged a billionaire through the streets.

And the summer had started out slow. I saw it in my tips at the club. Usually Valemont drew quite a bit of weekend traffic from New York City, bringing larger tips and more clients.

We’d all known it was a possibility, everyone who lived here was a little afraid of what control by a biker gang would look like. And for the first few months, we’d been right to be concerned.

But the reality was, the police had rarely done anything for Valemont. More missing girls on posters than babysitting gigs in every coffee shop.

Something was finally done about it.

And who was I to get involved in gang activity?

As the line moved forward, we finally reached the counter. Nash stepped in, offering a polite smile to the cashier. “Hey, Sarah. How are you?”

“Good! I haven’t seen you in forever!” The wavy haired brunette smiled at her.

Nash smirked, her eyes darting over to me. “No kidding, looks like business is booming. We’ll get out of your way. Can we do one black coffee, one vanilla latte with four shots of espresso, a strawberry lemonade, and whatever the lady would like?”

Smiling, I looked up at the menu and was quickly overwhelmed by the options.

From behind me, Cyrus grumbled. “Give her a large iced coffee with room for milk, please. And a chocolate croissant, please.”

“Sure thing!” Sarah laughed, her eyes catching on mine before proceeding with the order. I nodded, the drink sounding simple, reliable, and exactly what I wanted.

Nothing crazy, just something to get me through the rest of our errands.

I wanted to be annoyed that Cyrus spoke for me. And I was. She just happened to be correct this one time.