Excuse me while I puke.
“Get over yourself, Green,” Liam scoffs, continuing back to the bar.
But I can see, by the clenched fist at his side, that he’s frustrated. I grin and lean back, satisfied with having brought out that reaction. I wonder if the man knows what I know, but I don’t think he does yet.
All the more power to me, then. I’ll hold onto this until I need to use it, then.
“Tom,” the brunette simpers. “Can we go yet?”
“Not yet,” I say. “Go get me another beer.”
She hurries to obey and I drain the last of the beer that I have. I kick back, looking for all the world as though I don’t care about anything.
As Liam, Ethan and Grant bend their heads together once more, though, I close my eyes and concentrate all my energy into hearing what they have to say.
I hate them all.
I don’t want to know them.
But the Roughshod Rollers is my club, and I’ll be damned if anyone decides to take it away from me.
Ethan
I shake my head at Tom and try to concentrate on what Liam is saying. It’s difficult to, though, especially when I can see the way Tom is straining to overhear what we’re saying.
It’s ironic that Tom thinks he has it all figured out. What would the others say, I wonder, if they knew what lengths the man has gone to in order to raise money?
But I know. I shouldn’t, and Tom would kill me if he knew that I knew, but I am aware of someone involved in Tom’s newest business; the sale of stolen alcohol.
It was the worst-kept secret that Tom regularly lifts alcohol from the nearby stores. In all honesty, I’m not entirely certain how he’s gotten away with it until now. He always has a fully stocked cupboard at the club’s house.
Two weeks ago, that stock disappeared. No one else noticed, too caught up in the drama surrounding the house to care. I did, and I knew it was Tom. Who else could it be?
Then I heard from one of my friends. Tom has been selling the alcohol off. I was suspicious, but I didn’t pay much thought to it; it was just Tom being Tom, yet again, and I wanted nothing to do with the originally stolen alcohol, anyway.
Then I noticed the way our total savings rose in bits and pieces. I traced these amounts back to Tom, and it suddenly occurred to me why he was selling all that alcohol.
In his own way, he’s been trying to save the house.
Tom is a nasty piece of work, no doubt about it. He’s an asshole who loves watching others suffer and he isn’t above treating the rest of the world like we’re beneath him. But he’s also loyal to a fault.
I shake my head clear of thoughts about Tom.
“…Ethan was just saying he had a pretty good idea,” I hear Grant say, and I drag myself back to the present.
“Sorry?” I ask.
“Is your head in the clouds?” Liam asks, amused.
“Something like that,” I say noncommittally.
“Tell Liam what you told me,” Grant says, his eyes gleaming. He looks hopeful for the first time in a while.
“Ah!” I say, remembering. “So, you remember Georgia Turner, right?”
“Right…” Liam says slowly. “Your childhood friend, right? The one who normally kicks you out of your own front door when you need a break?”
I flush. “Yeah, man, that one.” I cough awkwardly as Grant and Liam both snigger at me. “Anyway, Georgia is a journalist, right? She’s been asking around, and she says she might know a few people who are willing to donate the rest of what we need!”