Chapter Thirteen
Blade’s pov
The silence from the garage followed me like a ghost for the rest of the day. Skyler’s cold shoulder should have made things easier. It should have been exactly what I needed to clear the noise out of my head and focus on the target. Instead, it left a sour, bitter taste in my mouth that no amount of grease or cheap whiskey could wash away. Every time I caught a glimpse of her rigid back across the compound or heard the aggressive, violent clang of her tools, my uncle’s warning echoed louder.
Clock’s ticking, Blade.
By nightfall, the clubhouse had finally quieted down. Most of the brothers were either out on the midnight highway patrol or passed out in the bunks upstairs after drowning themselves in too many drinks. I lay flat on my back in my small quarter
