His wide eyes and full, parted lips as my bag hit the seat before I did. “What the fuck?”

  “Change of plan.” I landed where I needed to be. “Saint’s not coming.”

  Mateo opened his mouth to react, but the blare of Nash and Rubi’s horn cut him off.

  The lead truck began to move.

  It was time to go.

  Mateo put the HGV in gear and the huge engine rumbled beneath me, deeper and meatier than the powerful bikes I was used to. He turned the steering wheel, biceps popping, and I was instantly transfixed. My heart was still worried about Saint and Cam, but if this was my view for the next four days, I’d take it.

  The convoy left the compound and eased onto the main road. I’d never been in a lorry this big. Mateo drove it like he drove everything. Slowly. Methodically. Like he was halfway between transporting a newborn baby and bored with life entirely.

  It took me longer to get acclimatised to being so high up in a cab that was so huge I couldn’t reach the ceiling. “This is like a shed on wheels.”

  Mateo kept his gaze on the road. “What kind of sheds did you grow up with?”

  “The kind on wheels, but not this big. Is that a bed back there?”

  “And a bog, but me and Decoy already made a pact not to use it.”

  “Don’t want to clean it?”

  “Life’s too short, mate.”

  I slid out of my seat to inspect the quarters behind us. Hidden by a curtain, it contained a bunk, a mini fridge, a TV on a bracket, and a tiny sink and a portable toilet that had been taped shut with hazard tape and graffitied with a Sharpie.

  The rogue artwork was a no entry sign that had been made to look like an angry pomegranate with wings. A hundred per cent Mateo’s work, as if I couldn’t tell by his standard numerical signature. The bed with the hospital corners and neatly folded duvet was all Decoy. “You two should get married. Match made in heaven.”

  Mateo grunted and yanked the curtain back in place, cutting himself off from me.

  I laughed and opened the fridge, poking through the energy drinks and snacks. They were all shite until I came to the foil-wrapped packages I’d seen Rubi messing with the night before.

  Sausage rolls, one set with fennel and chilli for Mateo, plain ones for Saint, because I didn’t have a single brother who wasn’t an absolute sweetheart one way or another.

  As Saint wasn’t here, I stole his snack and returned to my seat.

  Mateo was listening to Nash through the cab’s radio.

  He glanced at me and the open foil parcel in my hands. “Hungry?” he mouthed.

  I shrugged and ate the first sausage roll in two bites.

  Mateo grinned and picked up the radio receiver. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Out.”

  Nash was still talking.

  Mateo turned the radio off. “Did you eat mine too?”

  “As if. They’re safe behind the bananas. You want them?”

  “Not yet. Did you check out the bed? You can sleep while I drive.”

  “Not why I’m here, amigo.”

  My terrible Spanish accent sent Mateo’s eyes rolling around the world and back. Then his expression sobered. “What’s up with Saint?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He cut me a hard stare. “Is this one of those things you do know but you can’t tell me because Cam confided in you and shit?”

  “Nope. I really don’t know. Cam called and asked me to jump on. He didn’t say why beyond that he wasn’t letting Saint go.”

  Mateo refocused on the road a moment, hawk-eyeing an SUV as it passed us and signalled to move back into the slow lane. “Not today, dickweed.”

  He sped up, closing the gap between us and the brothers in front. The SUV moved on and Mateo turned back to me. “He’d have to have a limb hanging off for Cam to keep him down. The others thought he was late because they were banging.”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t that.”

  “I said the others, not me. Cam already told me Saint don’t like fucking at the clubhouse.”

  “Did he? When?”

  “The other day. After the Russian came.”

  When Cam had dragged Mateo away to the bar. Couldn’t deny I’d stayed put in the chapel and watched them drink together through the window. Cam and Mateo weren’t particularly close. They loved and trusted each other as much as any man on the council, but there was something inside Mateo that resisted Cam’s warmth and empathy, and Cam had learned to leave him be.

  Had that changed?

  Had I missed something?

  Or had Cam seen what I had in church that night?

  “Hey.” Mateo tapped his fist on my shoulder. “Don’t fall asleep with your mouth full.”

  I jolted back to the present and blew him a middle finger kiss. “I’m not asleep.”

  “What are you daydreaming about then? Anything nice?”

  No. But I wasn’t about to admit that I’d been fixating on the horror I’d seen flood Mateo’s amber eyes that night. He was more open with me than he was with anyone, but it was all relative. There was still a huge part of Mateo that kept everyone—even me—at arm’s length, and I respected that. How could I not when I had so many horrible secrets of my own?

  Except, they weren’t secrets anymore, not from him, and the balance between us felt suddenly off. I pictured the glittery hairband I’d shoved in my sock drawer. The woman from Porth Luck Cam still insisted was a gold star lesbian. Shit that was easy to forget about when his lips were hot on my bare skin, his cock grinding against mine, slow and sweet.

  Didn’t make it less real, though. He was hiding something. Maybe lots of somethings. And I didn’t care what they were, I just wanted to know.

  Fuck, I needed to know.

  As much as I needed to kiss him again.

  “Em.”

  Mateo’s growly voice pierced my introspection.

  “What?”

  He speared me with a look anyone else would take as a glower, but from him was actually pretty sweet. “You need a nap or something?”

  Or something. I sat up, rewrapping the sausage rolls and tossing them on the dash. “How long is your driving shift?”

  “Four hours. Then we stop for an hour before driving another five.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then we take a rest before doing it all over again. We weren’t gonna bother, but we’re short a driver without Saint, so we have to follow the driving time laws.”

  I knew that. Cam had sent me as a fighter, not a trucker. “Are all the rest stops in daylight?”

  “Nash figured it was safer than parking up in the dark with our guard down. And it’s harder to hit us when we’re on the move.”

  “Any quiet roads to watch out for?”

  “A few. Alexei was supposed to be out there somewhere, but he might not come if Saint’s a wreck.”

  “You think he is?”

  Mateo shrugged. “I think when we look at him, we see what he wants us to see.”

  “We’re all like that, though. Aren’t we?”

  “Nah. I’m waiting for you to notice I’m fucking starving and you’re still over there hogging all the food.”

  “You said you didn’t want them yet.”

  “I said I didn’t want mine yet. There’s a difference, chaparrito.”

  I tossed him the foil-wrapped parcel from the dash and watched him demolish what was left inside. He’d become obsessed with what I put in my belly because I still found it hard to give a fuck myself. I’d always loved watching him eat. It made him happy. Relaxed him. And a relaxed, happy Mateo was the most beautiful thing.

  With his hunger satisfied, he went back to driving while I investigated the rest of the cab. Mateo had brought nothing but underwear, cigarettes, and no word of a lie, six hammers, but I found traces of Nash and Rubi everywhere in more snacks and the stack of CDs stashed in the glovebox. “Morcheeba, Megadeth, Mendelson, Madonna. Think we got the Ms.”

  “Fuck Megadeth.”

  “Okay, then it’s trip hop, classical, or pop.”

  “Put the first one on.”

  Morcheeba. I slid the disc into the player and let it spin. Nineties chill filled the cab, and I was here for it. It was lighter than Mateo’s usual vibe and I couldn’t tell if he liked it, but it mellowed me out all the same.

  I slouched back in my seat and propped my feet up. It was my job to guard Mateo, scan the roads, and keep watch for trouble, but Mateo was hypervigilant enough for us both, and I was so fucking tired I considered smoking a cigarette to wake myself up.

  Not that Mateo would give me one. “If your voice gets any deeper, cielito, you’ll fucking bury me with it.”

  He’d been off his tits drunk when he said that to me. It was the first time he’d ever called me cielito too. Two days after we’d met. Since then, he’d gifted me a bunch of Spanish endearments, not all of them dear, but cielito was my favourite. Had to be, cos the other one he used most often was basically calling me a short arse. Was it my fault every other brother was a fucking giant?

  Thinking about it put me to sleep on the long bench seat. In my dreams, I kicked off my boots and dumped my feet in Mateo’s lap, but like the rest of my clothes, my socks were still wet. And I needed to be ready to use Mateo’s hammers if the Crows hit us on the road.

  So I kept my boots on, settled for using my arm as a pillow, and let the combination of Mateo’s comforting scent and rumbling HGV engine lull me into lala land.

  We were who the fuck knew where when he woke me sometime later.

  The engine was quiet. We’d stopped.

  I opened my heavy eyes, coming to like wading through tar.

  Mateo kept his hand on my arm as he spoke into his phone.

  I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Either he was too quiet or I was still a million miles away.

  Based on experience, my money was on a healthy mix of both.

  I leaned forward and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. I’d always been shit at waking up, but since losing half my blood to the dirt, the spinning was intense. Mateo was lucky the Crows hadn’t come for us for all the good I’d have done him right now.

  Not that he needed my help.

  Mateo was a fucking warrior. Hot blooded and vicious.

  Like a god.

  He was also cute as hell.

  Done talking on the phone, he unclipped my seatbelt and tipped me back until my head was on his thigh. He gazed down at me, eyes dancing with amusement. “Rubi told me you talk in your sleep. Thought he was full of shit, but apparently not.”

  I found my equilibrium. Just. It was hard to stay tied to the world with his face so close to mine. “What did I say?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Asked, didn’t I?”

  Shyness crept into Mateo’s face, and I knew in that instant that I’d said something dirty. Mateo was as blunt and brash as any biker in the room, but when it came to me, filthy things made him blush. On a good day, at least. And today was a good day, right? We were together, we were whole, and if I stretched my neck just a little bit—

  A fist banged on the window.

  Mateo ripped his gaze from mine and pitched forward, covering me, but the passenger door opened, and Rubi revealed himself before Mateo could reach for a tool.

  “Evening, young’uns.” He took in the sight of me sprawled in Mateo’s lap without blinking. “Welcome to your first rest stop of the night. Food’s shit, bogs are disgusting, and don’t even think of going anywhere without a full escort. Enjoy.”

  He made to shut the door.

  I sat up and jammed it with my foot. “Are there showers here?”

  Rubi turned back. “In the service station. Probably catch E-coli from them. You can’t wait till the next stop?”

  “I’ve been bricking all day, man. I need clean hair and dry clothes.”

  “All right.” Rubi craned his neck to see along what I was belatedly realising was a truck stop loaded with HGVs and vans. “Wait a sec, and I’ll round up a couple more blokes.”

  “I don’t need babysitting.”

  “Not my call, father. Lord Nashie’s in charge. Wait on his word, okay?”

  I sighed and dumped myself back in Mateo’s lap.

  Rubi grinned and shut the door. I figured we had at least a few minutes before he came back, but in the point-two seconds it took me to settle in Mateo’s fiery gaze again, another thump hit the windshield.

  Mateo cursed under his breath, Spanish and hot, and rolled down the window. “What?”

  Rubi murmured something I couldn’t hear. Then, louder, doled out team orders for Operation Shower. “Nash is securing the building now. When he hollers, both of you head over there while I watch your backs. Mats, guard the door, yeah?”

  “Nah, I was gonna fuck off to KFC.”

  “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, sunshine.”

  “Cunt.”

  Rubi laughed. Mateo rolled the window up, cutting him off. Then glared down at me as if it was my fault Rubi existed at all.

  I laughed too. Couldn’t help it. His sinister face was so cute. “You know, I made it through a six-year bird without getting jumped in the showers. I think I’ll be okay.”

  Mateo scowled deeper. “Ain’t no one getting through that door regardless.”

  I believed him. Last man who wronged me got shot in the face, after all.

  Don’t think about that.

  Done. I had my head in Mateo’s lap, his cock inches from my mouth. It was hard to think about anything. “So . . .”

  Mateo lifted a dark brow. “So what?”

  “Are you going to tell me what I said in my sleep?”

  The bashful haze crept into Mateo’s eyes again. He rubbed his scruffy jaw, his other hand coming to rest on my shoulder, the pad of his thumb grazing my neck. “Don’t know if I should.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “Thinking about if you meant it or not might do me in.”

  Okay, now I was intrigued, but Rubi knocked again before I could press any further.

  With heavy reluctance, I sat up, not needing Mateo’s hand at my back but appreciating it all the same. Fully upright, I took a second, then found my bag with the handful of clean clothes I’d brought.

  No towel.

  “Here.” Mateo threw one in my face. “Nash packed them.”

  “Good old Mother Nash.”

  “Yup.” Mateo opened his door and jumped out.

  Seconds later, he opened mine too. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted to help me down from the fuck-off big HGV, but he restrained himself.

  I sprang from the bench seat and landed at his feet. “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  “Tell me.”

  Footsteps approached.

  Rubi.

  Mateo glanced over my shoulder. Then he bent down, his lips an inch from my ear, his voice a whisper. “You said, Mateo, I need to see you come.”

  14

  MATEO

  Rubi came up on us before Embry could respond.

  “Come on, kids.” He clapped his hands. “Hair-wash night.”

  For once I was thankful for his expert clownship. I sidestepped Embry and took point, heading into the night with Embry and Rubi behind me.

  The truck stop was busy.

  Loud.

  But there was nowhere louder than my own fucking body. My pulse was insane. Sweat beaded my back. Fuck, I was the one who needed a shower now.

  Why did you tell him? You could’ve lived your whole life without this awkward as fuck moment.

  Did I want to, though? Live without the awkward? Awkward was normal. Mundane, even. Nothing about Embry was ever boring, but I loved these moments. Needed them, or I’d have a fucking stroke, I swear to god.

  I reached the building that housed the pay-per-use showers.

  Nash waited outside.

  He tipped me a nod. “All right?”

  I grunted.

  Nash accepted my answer and moved on, leaving Rubi and Embry to catch me up.

  I didn’t look at Embry as he reached my side. I gave him space to go around and figured I’d got away with it, but he poked my ribs on his way past, softening the jab with a rub that made me sway on my fucking feet.

  Don’t look at him.

  I looked at the sky instead. It was a British summer night. Cloudy with a healthy dose of drizzly rain. Muggy, airless, but somehow cold too. I could see Jupiter if I looked hard enough, but that was it, and on closer inspection, I realised it was a plane and I was still a thick-as-shit idiot.

  Embry disappeared into the building. The urge to track him was strong, but I forced myself to keep my back to the door. Nash had done his job. He was my brother. I had to trust him.

  “It’s clear,” Rubi murmured, as if this arsehole had CCTV in my brain. “And you know he can look after himself, bro. He ain’t as fragile as you think.”

  “He ain’t fragile at all.”

  “Right. So relax. Damn it, Mats. You’re making me need a spliff.”

  It was fucking hardcore to have so many sources of tension running through me. I stopped thinking about Embry getting jumped in the empty shower block and immediately worrying about the impact of what I’d said to him took its place. The awkward returned, but it was too sharp-edged to feel normal. It hurt. Like, legit lanced me with a sharp pain that took my breath away.

  I rubbed my chest.

  Rubi waggled his brows. “Indigestion?”

  “Only from your cooking.”

  “Liar.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Nope.” Rubi lit a cigarette and offered it to me.

  Feeling masochistic as fuck, I waved it away and slipped a Polo between my lips instead.

  The sweet taste grounded me, and I gave into the urge to crunch it between my teeth, replacing it with another two.

  Rubi’s amusement was likely visible from space, but his phone rang, distracting him from taking the diabolical piss out of me.

  He stepped away, keeping his gaze on the shower door while I scanned the truck stop and tried not to listen to his conversation.

  Failed, naturally, because it sounded tense as fuck, and for once in his life, Rubi couldn’t get a word in edgeways. I watched the life drain from him, humour evaporating, big shoulders slumping, and could easily deduce that River O’Brian was breaking his heart all over again.