He nodded. “You’ll have a number of witnesses to that.”
“My sister is expecting me, and the truth is, I like the idea of not knowing what happens next and especially not being involved in it.”
Max looked at her. “Your sister?”
“Her name is Gemma.” He smiled slightly, and Rafe knew he must be thinking of Danielle. She reciprocated his smile before nodding to both of them and telling them good night.
Rafe watched her go out, wishing they were going with her. He barely knew the woman, but so far, he liked every damn thing he’d learned. And now he knew she lived with her sister. More information was always helpful, and that could be good or bad. It all depended on the sister, didn’t it? If she was anything like Danielle, who was a real sweetheart, it wouldn’t be a hardship, for sure.
Sam looked at Brad and then Max. “How the fuck did he get drunk so fast?”
“He tried to spike Simone’s drink, and she outfoxed him.”
Max growled through his teeth.
“Shit. What am I gonna do with this fool?”
“I’ve made arrangements,” Rafe told him.
“I still think we should drive him out to the middle of nowhere and leave him without his pants,” said Max with a glower.
Rafe laughed. “It’s not a bad idea, but neither of us want him on our bikes.”
Max gave a grudging nod.
By the time the cavalry arrived, in the form of Slash, the Enforcer for The Road Kings, and a guy named Choirboy, Brad was snoring loudly.
“What’s happening here?” Slash asked.
“We were making some inroads in establishing a relationship with a lady, and our friend here tried to cut in. He put something in the lady’s drink, but she was polite and let him have it all to himself. It seems he can’t handle his date-rape drug.”
Brad groaned and started to slide off the table, but Slash grabbed him and boosted him further up onto the table. He yanked the man’s wallet out of his back pocket, and, with curious patrons watching, he took out the man’s driver’s license and read the address. “I know this place. Me and Choirboy can give the poor fella a ride. After his disappointment, he shouldn’t have to get there alone.”
Sam wandered over and stood beside them with his hands on his hips. “What the fuck’s happening, boys?”
Slash stood up and smiled at Sam. “I bet you’re Sam. I’m Slash, and this is Choirboy, and we’re buddies of Rafe and Max. He called, saying this poor guy needed a ride home so he doesn’t get busted for living while being stupid.” He handed Sam the wallet. “Why don’t you hold this for him so there’s no question about anything inappropriate going on with his credit cards or money? I’ll drive him home in his own car.” He held up the license. “I’ll leave this by his bed with his keys and leave him a note saying you’ve got his wallet, so he doesn’t panic.”
Sam smiled. “Give me his laptop, too, and I’ll put it behind the bar. He’ll have a fucking heart attack if he loses that thing. Would you two like a drink before you take out the garbage? On Brad here, of course?”
Slash grinned. “Thanks, man. That sounds nice. Despite this unfortunate introduction, so far I see this Brad guy as a righteous dude.”
“You do?” Rafe asked.
“Sure. He’s quiet, don’t talk back, and buys drinks.”
Sam put his face close to Brad’s where it rested on the table. “If you don’t want to buy a round for the house, say so right now.” He stayed that way, frozen for a moment, then straightened. “Far as I can tell, Brad is downright eager to buy us all a drink.”
“I didn’t hear any objections,” Slash agreed. “He seems an amiable sort.”
“Thanks for the invite to the party, Rafe and Max,” Slash said.
“That’s what brothers are for,” Rafe said, meaning it.
Choirboy nodded happily. “I’m not sure Vanessa will be too happy with us if we’re gone a long time, though.”
“She’ll chew your ass and spit it out,” said Max.
Choirboy blinked. “Is it just my imagination, or are you suddenly a chatty motherfucker?”