Chapter Seventeen
Skyler’s POV
The Black Vultures’ bar was a filthy dive on the edge of nowhere — thick cigarette smoke, sticky floors, and the constant roar of loud rock music vibrating through the walls. We arrived after dark, parking our bikes out front like any other couple hoping to jump ship to a new charter. Blade kept one possessive hand on the small of my back the entire walk inside. Part of the cover, he’d said. It still sent heat racing across my skin.
We claimed a booth near the back with a good view of the room. Blade ordered drinks while I scanned faces and listened for any whisper about Jax or the missing files. For the first hour, we sold the act pretty well — sitting close, his arm slung along the back of the booth, my hand resting on his thigh. Every accidental brush o
