Playing for keeps

14. Apple slices

K A L E B

I've come to like the seat at the windowsill in the Carter's living room, liking how I have a view of the driveway, having a front row seat when Easton appears, but not alone.

The muscles in my back tense when I watch her return with a boy and a dog, all smiles and giggles; the both of them.

I don't like the look of him from the moment my gaze lands on him. He looks like the typical prep boy, with golden hair and a fucking halo around his hair. He looks like the exact type someone like Easton should be with, which pisses me off.

He doesn't just stop by the driveway gates, but chooses to walk her the whole way up, talking to her, making her laugh, that God damn smile on her face making my hands clench into fists.

I tear my eyes away and try to focus back on whatever the hell Damien was saying before I zoned out. But it's useless.

My mind wanders to what's happening behind me, instead of in front of me.

I can't go there, I remind myself. It's better if I just leave Easton alone. I haven't got room to start something up that I can't finish.

Relationships have always been off the table for me, no matter how cliche it sounds, I don't have the emotional storage.

I'm a stone cold, rude and mean Viper and I don't have any plans to change that. It's how I was raised.

But why the hell does my fucking brain keep wondering elsewhere? Towards the striking green eyes and soccer cleats that hit me in the head.

"...our plan going forward is to do nothing." The last part of Damien's sentence catches my attention and my eyes lock on where he stands, standing in front of the living room door so that he can see everyone in the room.

It's a smaller meeting tonight, with some of the Carter's main hit men, and the Viper's inner circle.

"You mean, do nothing about the bastard that's targeting us?" One of the older Vipers, Bernie, scoffs as he leans back in his chair, looking at Damien with disdain. "Great idea, Carter."

Damien's response is composed, although I see the slight fire behind his eyes at the way Bernie talks to him. "It will accomplish nothing if we go in guns blazing ready to kill. We need a strategic plan. The idiots that go in with guns raised and ready to fire will be the idiots that get us all killed." His sharp glare is turned on Bernie, who's mouth is clamped shut, his eyes saying all the things his mouth doesn't.

He was one of the Vipers who was against the merge with the Carters and he wears his feelings on his sleeve. Something that will get you killed.

"You got something to say, Bernie?" Killian speaks up this time, a bored expression sporting his face as he sits on the arm of the couch close to Damien, daring Bernie to say something else.

Bernie's face is red at being called out by the boss and I swear the grey hairs covering his beard go red, too. "No sir," his voice is small, not representing the old, tough biker look he's got going on.

Killian gets to his feet, buttoning his jacket as Damien exits the room. "Vipers," Killian calls over the room. "We leave in thirty," he tells us before following Damien, probably to his office.

The room erupts into chatter seconds later.

Griffin leans against the wall next to where I'm sat, phone in hand. "You wanna see some photos of Susie?" He asks, thrusting his phone into my face.

Pictures of his grey and white cat are displayed on the screen, stretching out on the bed with a toy in her mouth.

Him and his damn cat. The light of his fucking world.