Page 91 of His Loyal Rebel

Chapter 32

Twyla

Curley pulled up a chair at the table in the clubhouse. Twyla forced a smile she wasn't feeling. Whip had left three hours ago, and she'd expected him back before now.

The vice president of Tarkio slid a glass filled with dark liquid toward her. "Drink it, hon."

"What is it?" Her stomach revolted at the thought of eating or drinking.

"Coke and rum." He lifted his brow. "It'll settle your stomach."

"Are you a doctor?" She wasn't falling for any trick.

He chuckled. "No, but I've had two glasses of the same thing, and I feel a lot more patient while we wait for Whip to return."

Reaching the point where she needed to do something or go crazy, she sipped the drink. The liquid warmed her chest and hadn't burned going down.

"Thank you." She kept hold of the glass. "Can I ask you something?"

Curley nodded.

"How dangerous does it get out there?" She waved her hand in front of her. "Not all the time. Just when I'm in here."

Curley's gaze softened. He looked at the surface of the table, and his lips pinched. If she would've blinked, she would've missed the small sign that her question made him uncomfortable.

But she'd seen his hesitation, and it only made her more determined to get a bigger answer.

Whip refused to tell her what he would be doing. She only knew that when he came home, if he came home, life would be easier for her. And apparently, for him, too.

It wasn't hard to figure out that tonight's job involved Cusclan. That was the only thing that stood in both their ways.

Dealing with Cusclan scared her to death. She worried about Whip constantly. His hatred ran deep inside of him, and she was afraid he'd put himself in unnecessary danger because of holding onto that rage for the club that'd killed his parents.

He had so much to live for to lose his life over hatred.

Planting the idea in her head about a baby had done funny things to her. She hadn't even thought of eventually becoming pregnant with his child.