CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
*Kaldon “Kal/Prez” - President*
Rolling up to Tit for Tat is on my list of things that piss me off, right alongside dealing with my father and navigating Lace. Damn this place. If being part owner wasn’t so advantageous, I would have dissolved ages ago. One day that will be the case; I can almost taste my freedom. Right now, one too many visits past my threshold for the season, all I taste is bitter impatience.
Foster is out front, smoking a cigarette. I happen to know that he very seldom smokes. The fact he took an extra-long pull right in front of me speaks volumes. Good ‘ol Foster is strategizing his next move. Words spoken in silence, we exchange nothing more than a brief glance. After all, as far as anyone other than us are concerned, we talk saloon and interclub business, nothing more.
Him being outside when he should be in the office speaks volumes, too. Foster made himself scarce so the dancers had a comfortable place to serve extras. Whoever is in there is about to get the boot, though, because I refuse to fucking mingle.
Chaz is about fifteen minutes behind me, grabbing dinner for Lace. It was supposed to be lunch, but our assignment dragged on. Since he pulled that stunt with Coty, I decided to be here for damage control. Normally, I could care less if they break out into a bar fight. But this weekend, we really need to lie low. Too many assignments. Too much plotting. The more Hell for Leather is out of sight, the more out of mind we are.
Figured while here, I can also check to see which Stoners are posted and watch for the dancers with the loosest tongues. Stoney has been quiet — too damn quiet. Avoiding me. Pretending he has more important shit to do. He does, but still, usually he peacocks a lot more.
The place is packed. Motorcyclists from all over have arrived in time for the Kick-Start Party and are killing time before it begins.
I head back to the office to assert my authority, only to be met with a locked door, of course. Letting go of the handle nice and slow, I press my ear to the wood, expecting to hear some moans and the slap of skin on skin. And I do. But the moans are… familiar…
Put me in a brothel, blindfolded, and I would be able to peg Lace amid the many sex noises. In about five seconds she will take that big, final inhale of satiation. Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I take in a deep breath and move my ear away from the door.
Three.
Two.
One.
Then I return.
On an exhale of breath, she says, “I tell you mine, if you tell me yours.”
“No,” Coty responds, yet another voice I know really damn well. Surprise, surprise. “You will tell me yours regardless.”
She blows a raspberry. “Remember the Cali girl?”
“The one with the Duc?” Coty asks. All my senses buzz to life as I envision the woman on the Duc that I had passed when leaving Foster’s trailer yesterday.
“Yep. Crow was thanking me for helping her out. We made friends, kinda. He also updated me on that situation with her ex and said Revelry is branching. Things are looking up for them. It makes my heart happy.”
The two go quiet aside from the rustle of clothes as they put themselves back together. “Coty…” The last syllable of his name trails, and she takes in a shaky breath. My entire body tightens. “I want to be in the know.”
The rustle of clothing stops. A silent moment passes between them. His hesitation grates at my nerves. I fight the urge to kick the door in, but Coty has never given me a reason to not trust him. I hate the concern resonating in those extra beats of my pulse.
“Nothing I can do about that,” Coty finally says. All the blood drains to my feet, and I stagger on the spot. He pauses again before finishing with, “Remember your place. Because the moment you forget is when you fuck this up for everyone. Mostly yourself.”
Holy shit. All my men know I have plans. Keeping them locked tight was a huge risk. But doing so was a necessity. This trip is more than just a quick vacation to the beach. I needed a way to test their loyalty, quickly. The extra day might not have been the triggering element, but it helped.
Coty was the wildcard. So far everyone else had already proved themselves: Kio by backing my decision to take the early hit, regardless of the risk; Bay by stepping down, very little questions asked; Chaz proving he can handle balancing his responsibilities with Lace distracting him; Vee successfully challenging his superiors while still making a solid leadership decision; Brodi, his was harder because I had no idea how to test him. Not until the incident with Vee and Bay. Brodi has never had to actually perform for us as an in-house medic. He has the training, we know he is capable as hell, but this was the first time he had to serve HFL in that way. Hardly batted an eye. Fucking killed it; Zane, shit he was fed to the wolves. Poor kid had the worst of it all.
…and now Coty. Even though he literally had the most important thing in his life manipulated in the worst possible way, by his best friend no less, he stayed loyal. I had my doubts. His comment also proves that he knows — or at least assumes — more than he lets on.
Test by test, my men have passed.
The creak of the door handle snaps me out of my ballooning pride. A crocheted blanket woven with both dread and amusement smothers that balloon. Lace will be incredibly unhappy with his response. But she’ll bite her tongue. However, that doesn’t mean she’ll bite her curiosity.
And that… is a big problem.
Coty precedes her, going as far as making her walk behind him to carry through his point. But the bold power display is not enough where Lace is concerned. The look in his eyes when his gaze hits mine, solidifies that fact. He knows that since I was standing out here, I probably heard their conversation and will do something about it.
I place my hand on his shoulder, and Lace takes a few steps back, immediately understanding that I have something to say to my wingman. “Club meeting, bright and early tomorrow morning. We have shit to go over.” Time to make things happen.