“Good. I still receive threats against my family, had one awhile back from the Twisted Snakes. Fucked my boy up pretty good and threatened my daughter next. We snuffed the fuckers out, but the danger’s always out there. The main thing is that she never knew about any of it.”
“I’ll keep her out of my business, but I won’t lie to her.”
“She knows you were comin’ here?”
“Yeah, she helped me chop his head off,” I retort, deadpan.
Chuckling, he approaches me. “Let’s keep this between us then.”
He reaches his hand out, and I shake it in return. I’m not making any promises, but it won’t be a conversation I bring up to her first thing.
“You won’t have issues from any of my brothers or my son for that matter. I hope you’re able to bring her around with you; I’d love to finally see my daughter. This club’s her family, too, whenever she’s ready for it.”
“I’ll see you around, Prez.” Replying, I crank the engine over, the loud rumble overshadowing anything else he’d been planning to say.
He throws up a two finger salute as I walk the bike backward a few paces, his men all standing around Ares, no doubt waiting to be filled in after I’m gone. Had this whole situation not been about his daughter, though, I can’t help but think that I’d have a bullet through my skull right now for chopping off his Prospect’s.
Staring at the beat-upbuilding, I let loose a long sigh. After questioning myself fifty hundred times today about whether or not I should show up to meet Viking, I decided to say fuck it and drove my ass to the bar. Debate about it all I want to, if I’m not here, then I know he’ll be knocking on my door again. I can either face him in a room full of people when he’s had a drink or when we’re alone, and he’s irritated again.
Bethany’s supposed to meet me up here once she’s showered and changed from work. I still haven’t gotten her to confess what’s up with Nightmare. I’m quite stunned at her persistence; any other time I’ve been able to crack her into confessing. Her silence is making a huge statement, and I’m hoping that with her showing up tonight I’m not setting her up for failure being around Nightmare. It’s been four days since she stayed with him, maybe they’ve had time to cool off.
Crossing the threshold of the noisy bar, the music, and rowdy patrons’ conversations envelop me as I start to scan the room for Viking. Halfway through my perusal, one of his brothers approaches me. He’s a lot smaller than Vike, but still pleasant to look at with his dark features.
Stopping right in my path, he shadows me by a few inches. I’d guess him at five foot eleven or so. His sharp jaw is overtaken by at least two days of dark stubble from forgetting to shave, or not caring enough to.
A friendly smirk plays on his lips until my gaze meets his amused charcoal colored irises. “’Sup Princess.” He flashes me a bright smile that’s slightly bashful. “Sinner,” he states, his hand grabbing mine lightly to lead me farther into the bar.
Confused as to why he’s touching me, I follow a few steps before he continues, “My brother had a few things to take care of, but he’ll be back in a bit.”
Requesting any details, even something simple like what time he’ll come back, would be a waste of time, so I keep quiet. I know how bikers and their business work, thanks to my mom’s constant rambling about my father and his MC rules. It’s been drilled in that you keep your nose out of their club stuff, not only for your safety but also because it’ll cause pointless arguments.
The bartender notices Sinner approach and rushes over, ignoring the other customers waiting for their drinks.
“Refill?” the older lady questions and he shakes his head.
“Nah. Vike’s Ol’ Lady needs one of those red girly things you make.” Her mouth turns up in a friendly coffee-stained smile, and then she’s off busily mixing liquor and juices for me.
I wish I got service like that when me and Bethany order. Instead, it’s usually a dose of attitude and a shitty made drink.
Cutting straight to the chase, I lift my palm up, covered securely with his. “Umm, why are you still touching me?”
“Just being friendly to my brother’s Ol’ Lady.”
“Thanks, but please stop calling me that and I’m able to walk myself.” Using my other hand, I point at my shoes. Dutifully he looks down. “See, I have two feet just like you do.”
He flashes me a hurt glance about to say something, but the bartender approaches stealing his attention. Once he’s thanked her and has my fruity drink in hand, he starts to tug me along toward the back tables.
“Where are we going?”
“You can come sit with the brothers while you wait. No one will bother you back here.”
“Oh. They won’t mind?” I’ll admit it’s nice of him to offer. Getting attacked by the creep was traumatic enough that sitting at the bar alone is slightly intimidating even if I am inside and surrounded by people.
“Nah, they’re cool.”
“And Viking?” I only ask because I’ve seen how he acts when another male’s within two feet of me.
“Trust me; he’ll appreciate you being at our table when he gets here.” He plays it off as a random idea, but I figure it’s so he can keep an eye on me for his brother; either way, though it’s a win-win for me. I get to relax with a few free drinks and at the same time know I won’t be harassed again.