Free Hidden (Motorcycle Club Romance): Trista and Blaze 3 (Fallen Idols Motorcycle Club Book 7) by Savannah Rylan

ONE
    TRISTA
     
     
    I snuggled deeper into Blaze’s side, my hand resting on his bare chest. I dragged my finger along the outline of his newest tattoo, the raven that all the Fallen Idols wore. Just because he wasn’t patched just yet, didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to get the tattoo, but it was a ballsy move. The rest of the club thought so, too, and they decided to tell him as much. But that was just how Blaze was, always doing everything that he wanted to do. It was one of the things that was so magnetic about him.
    “So? Are you nervous?”
    I shrugged, not revealing anything, but deep down I was. “Not really. I mean, I’ve gone over the scenario a million times in my head. This should be an easy steal. I’m just glad that you’re going with me first thing tomorrow to make sure. I just need to be certain security is as tight as I think it is, and that it’s our best chance to get these cars is on the road. Because, if it turns out that it’s easier at the auction, I’ll go to Plan B, and that’s what we’ll do. Though, convincing my dad to do that won’t be easy.”
    He pulled his fingers through my hair, and leaned down to kiss me full on the mouth. As our tongues intertwined, I felt the rough stubble of his unshaven face along my lips. His kisses may have been gentle, but I knew the idea behind them wasn’t. When we broke to breathe, he spoke again. “You’re going to be great. Las Almas will get what’s coming to them, and the Red Dragons will be happy that we got the shipment. The whole thing is going to be great, I’m sure of it.”
    I nodded to agree with him, but, before I could speak, someone pounded on the door. “What the hell? Who would be here at this hour?”
    Blaze jumped up out of bed, grabbing his gun off the bedside table, but before he could make his way to the front of my apartment, Ryder’s voice echoed from the other side of the door. “Trista… Just let me in.” He was whining, and that meant he was drunk.
    I grabbed my robe, cinched it around my waist, and glanced back at Blaze. “It’s Ryder. You can put your gun away.”
    I padded over to the front door, and opened it to find Ryder slumped against the side of the doorframe. His eyes fluttered open. Clearly, he had passed out in the thirty seconds it took me to walk across my apartment. “Ryder, what the hell are you doing here? You know, showing up to somebody’s place at this hour could get you shot. Get in here before my neighbors complain.” I grabbed him by the front of his cut, and pulled him inside. He looked like a disheveled mess.
    “Sawyer wasn’t working with the Feds.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Not more of this! I get it you believe her, and that’s your prerogative. But I don’t have to, Ryder. What does Sawyer have to do with you being drunk as a skunk on my doorstep at two o’clock in the morning?”
    He started pacing, but it was more of a stumble. He even had his arms out in front of him, self-preservation I guess. It was smart, considering he ran into the refrigerator twice. “She wasn’t with the Feds.”
    “You’ve made your point. Now, why are you drunk?”
    Blaze walked up behind me, supporting me with just his fingertips grazing along my back. The silky material felt hot around his touch.
    “Blaze is here?” Ryder said as he squinted at the huge figure in front of him.
    “Yes, and you’re cock blocking me. So get on with it.”
    Ryder shook his head. “Sawyer wasn’t working with the Feds. She was hiding from me.”
    He fell into one of the kitchen chairs, and plopped down with his head on the table.
    “Why would she be hiding from you?”
    “The secret.”
    A secret? That didn’t make any sense. It was no secret why Sawyer had left, even though Ryder thought it was some huge travesty. Her dad got thrown in jail, and she bailed. She left Ryder and the club. I hadn’t felt the same way about her since. There was hardly a friendship there, after she had been like a sister to me.