But then she was handing me a shot.
Cocking back.
And swinging.
She put her whole weight into that slap.
And you had to respect a woman who was willing to slap the shit out of a total stranger.
Unfortunately for me, she was kept busy for the rest of her shift. And then the guys found a group of chicks who wanted to hang back at the clubhouse, so we were heading out.
So I went.
But not before leaving a tip and a message with Toll for the woman he told me was named Theo.
The party at the clubhouse was in full swing, with a few of the guys already disappearing with some of the women, leaving just Brooks outside, not wanting to participate, and Callow in the living room area with two women on his lap.
Normally, I’d offer to take one off his hands. Groups were fun, but they took some stamina, and Callow had been hitting the liquor pretty hard.
Somehow, though, I just didn’t want to.
I should have.
The girls had everything going for them.
Looks.
Mostly sober.
And willing.
I was never someone who turned all that down.
Somehow, though, I went ahead and walked past, going instead to my own room and dropping down into bed.
I couldn’t remember a time when a single woman occupied my mind. In my experience, there was just always another one to turn to if I was looking for a little fun.
But with women available in the other room, all I could seem to think about was a certain surly bartender with the pretty eyes and the mean glower.
I especially occupied myself with the image of her red lipstick smeared all over her face and my cock, of that eyeliner and mascara running ribbons down her cheeks when her eyes watered as she sucked me deep.
“Fuck,” I hissed, raking a hand down my face.
It was my hand I worked with that night, instead of a flesh-and-blood, willing woman I would find a room away.
And I couldn’t, for the fucking life of me, figure out why that was.
“Yo, lazy ass,” Brooks called two days later, kicking the front foot of the chair I was rocking on the back legs of, making me slam back into the wall, spilling jelly from my donut on my shirt.
“Who me?” I asked, pressing a hand to my chest. “I’ve been extremely busy, actually.”
“Ordering and eating donuts,” he shot back.
“Hey, someone had to do it,” I said. “Is something fun going on? Someone need their heads bashed in? A little sprinkling of arson? A good, old-fashioned shove down a steep staircase?”
“Christ,” Brooks sighed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “No. Not everything to do with the club involves bloodshed.”
“But—“
“Or fires,” he cut me off. “Sometimes, in this club, there are chores that need to be done by someone.”
“Yeah, that’s why we have prospects? Where’s Crosley anyway?
“Callow,” he said, sighing. “And he has been busting his ass since sun-up. “Along with Nave. And Voss,” he added more pointedly.
“Hey, I can’t be blamed for reserving my energy for the important stuff. Their tired asses would be useless if we got invaded right now.”
“Regardless,” he said, knowing from experience that I could go fifty rounds with him until he got sick of it and went to someone else for whatever the chore was.
Unfortunately, he was onto me now.
“You’re going to be hitting the food store today,” Brooks said.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” I asked, smirking. “Me, with the club credit card that has no limit, in the land where the food comes from?”
“You have a list,” he told me. “Vi, for some reason, is having a birthday party here. They need whatever shit they need. And you need to pick it up,” he told me, holding out a folded piece of paper with two rows worth of shit. “If you need more than that, have fucking at it. But get their shit, because I don’t want to hear any of the princess’s shit about missing items.”
They could be a particular lot.
And I knew them well enough to know how it would go. Vi and Layna would have no idea that anything was missing. Billie would be forgiving. But sweet Gracie would be super disappointed, and because she was sad, Hope would be ready to knock some heads together.
“And it’s a big deal because Katherine is coming home,” Brooks said, making me knock down on the front two legs of my chair.
“Katherine?” I asked, sitting up straighter.
“Kit. Maze and Repo’s daughter?” he said. “Seth’s sister?” he added.
Shit.
I somehow flaked on knowing they even had a female offspring.
“Where she been?”
“Fuck if I know. Seth doesn’t talk about her much. And she’s bringing Ariah with her too.”
“And who the fuck is Ariah?” I asked, head spinning with convoluted family trees.
“Not a princess,” he said, shrugging. “She’s the daughter of Tig, from that private eye agency, and of Cy’s girl’s sister. Fuck if I know, man, this town is fucking incestuous. All I know is they are back, and it’s a big deal. So get the shit right while I make sure the clubhouse is clean and everything else is stocked. Oh, and Dezi,” he called as he made his way to the doorway, looking over his shoulder at me.