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Book: Devil's Inferno (Blacksteel Bandits Motorcycle Club Book 3) by Evelyn Glass
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Authors: Evelyn Glass
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chilled his bones. His eyebrows furrowed as he glanced around the diner. Had she gone to the restroom? For a split second, his heart thrummed in his chest. Or was her disappearance more sinister?
“Just missed her, hon.” The old waitress bustled to the table, arms laden with dirty dishes. She paused by Tyler, words taking on a nasally unpleasant tone, “She left with the town tart.”
“What?” He spun toward the waitress, his eyebrows furrowed.
The waitress wove a scowl between her syllables as she intentionally mispronounced the name, “Fransessca Munose.”
“Shit!”
The waitress barely had a chance to blink before Tyler shoved his way out the front door. The only thing left in his wake was the chime of the doorbell. She stared at where he last stood, eyebrows raised. She grunted to herself and shrugged her shoulders. Kids these days were an odd bunch. She bustled into the kitchen after letting the hostess know table eighteen free for anyone who needed it.
CHAPTER NINE
The morning sun hung low in the sky, its bottom touching the far horizon. A chill nipped at the air. Any other time, Miranda would have relished in such a morning. With Francesca's presence, and looming discussion, she had little time to dwell on enjoyment. Together, the women rounded the diner and headed to the back where extra parking situated beyond the eyes of eating patrons. The lot had exploded with activity in the short amount of time they arrived. Three more semi-trucks took up space in the back, flanked by a dozen sedans and trucks. It was surprising, but Miranda hadn't paid attention to the patrons inside.
Miranda dallied behind Francesca a few steps. She mentally fought over how to approach the situation. Cool and calm? Understanding and warm? Or would Francesca be no-nonsense and curt? Miss Munoz's footfalls gave way to the crunch of gravel. Miranda decided to swallow her nerves and posit her inquiry. “Well, Miss Munoz, what did you want to tal-”
“Miss Groves,” a deep, masculine voice cut Miranda off. Her heart thudded in her chest. Her brain recognized the voice, immediately, and one word sang through her head 'run.' Her blood ran cold, keeping her feet planted. She didn't have time to register the knowledge, though, as Baldie stepped out from behind a maroon sedan. He leered down at her and her stomach heaved. For a split second, she was glad to have an empty stomach. He sneered down at her, lips twisted into a vicious smile. “Long time no see.”
Her gaze flicked from Baldie to the woman she previously considered a potential ally. The woman couldn't bear to meet her gaze. Betrayal lit through her thoughts like flaming gasoline. The air locked in her lungs, but she couldn't turn anger toward Francesca just yet. There had to be an explanation! With her mouth going dry, Miranda rasped, “…Francesca?”
Despite the scene playing out before him, Baldie advanced on Miranda. Two more men stepped out from the sedan. Baldie continued to talk, a smirk twisted across his lips, “How was Maui? Rather short trip, wasn't it?”
Her mind buzzed and tumbled, trying to make sense of the event playing out before her. Tyler's words ricocheted around her head. Her gaze focused on the other woman, a chill slicing across her gut, followed by the heat of Hell. Had Francesca ratted them out to Pete? The woman refused to meet Miranda's gaze. She stared over Miranda's left shoulder, face masked with a neutral expression. “Sorry, Miss Groves. You know how it is.”
No, she didn't know how it was. Just as she opened her mouth to correct Francesca's presumption, two pairs of arms locked around her. A hand slapped across her lips. She gasped, marveling at the speed of Baldie's lackeys. Instantly, her muscles tensed and her feet kicked out, her shoulders jerked as she attempted to shake off the men. She sunk her teeth into the palm and one of the men howled. He jerked his hand away and
“Just missed her, hon.” The old waitress bustled to the table, arms laden with dirty dishes. She paused by Tyler, words taking on a nasally unpleasant tone, “She left with the town tart.”
“What?” He spun toward the waitress, his eyebrows furrowed.
The waitress wove a scowl between her syllables as she intentionally mispronounced the name, “Fransessca Munose.”
“Shit!”
The waitress barely had a chance to blink before Tyler shoved his way out the front door. The only thing left in his wake was the chime of the doorbell. She stared at where he last stood, eyebrows raised. She grunted to herself and shrugged her shoulders. Kids these days were an odd bunch. She bustled into the kitchen after letting the hostess know table eighteen free for anyone who needed it.
CHAPTER NINE
The morning sun hung low in the sky, its bottom touching the far horizon. A chill nipped at the air. Any other time, Miranda would have relished in such a morning. With Francesca's presence, and looming discussion, she had little time to dwell on enjoyment. Together, the women rounded the diner and headed to the back where extra parking situated beyond the eyes of eating patrons. The lot had exploded with activity in the short amount of time they arrived. Three more semi-trucks took up space in the back, flanked by a dozen sedans and trucks. It was surprising, but Miranda hadn't paid attention to the patrons inside.
Miranda dallied behind Francesca a few steps. She mentally fought over how to approach the situation. Cool and calm? Understanding and warm? Or would Francesca be no-nonsense and curt? Miss Munoz's footfalls gave way to the crunch of gravel. Miranda decided to swallow her nerves and posit her inquiry. “Well, Miss Munoz, what did you want to tal-”
“Miss Groves,” a deep, masculine voice cut Miranda off. Her heart thudded in her chest. Her brain recognized the voice, immediately, and one word sang through her head 'run.' Her blood ran cold, keeping her feet planted. She didn't have time to register the knowledge, though, as Baldie stepped out from behind a maroon sedan. He leered down at her and her stomach heaved. For a split second, she was glad to have an empty stomach. He sneered down at her, lips twisted into a vicious smile. “Long time no see.”
Her gaze flicked from Baldie to the woman she previously considered a potential ally. The woman couldn't bear to meet her gaze. Betrayal lit through her thoughts like flaming gasoline. The air locked in her lungs, but she couldn't turn anger toward Francesca just yet. There had to be an explanation! With her mouth going dry, Miranda rasped, “…Francesca?”
Despite the scene playing out before him, Baldie advanced on Miranda. Two more men stepped out from the sedan. Baldie continued to talk, a smirk twisted across his lips, “How was Maui? Rather short trip, wasn't it?”
Her mind buzzed and tumbled, trying to make sense of the event playing out before her. Tyler's words ricocheted around her head. Her gaze focused on the other woman, a chill slicing across her gut, followed by the heat of Hell. Had Francesca ratted them out to Pete? The woman refused to meet Miranda's gaze. She stared over Miranda's left shoulder, face masked with a neutral expression. “Sorry, Miss Groves. You know how it is.”
No, she didn't know how it was. Just as she opened her mouth to correct Francesca's presumption, two pairs of arms locked around her. A hand slapped across her lips. She gasped, marveling at the speed of Baldie's lackeys. Instantly, her muscles tensed and her feet kicked out, her shoulders jerked as she attempted to shake off the men. She sunk her teeth into the palm and one of the men howled. He jerked his hand away and
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