“Me too,” I admitted, unable to hide a grin.
“They’re gonna be tough. Just what this club needs.”
“We do alright. But yeah, I like knowing it isn’t just all of us gettin’ older and no younger members to come up underneath us.”
“Exactly. We’ve got a rough road ahead. Razr isn’t gonna stay in prison forever. There’s shit we got to settle about Salazar and his shipments. And then those fucking Denali brothers. That betrayal still chafes my ass.”
I didn’t doubt it. “We’ll handle it, pres,” I promised, glancing around the room as he took the stool next to me.
“I know that shit, just talkin’,” he muttered, slamming his empty beer bottle on the bar. “Another!” he roared as Becca placed one in front of him, quickly snatching the empty bottle before it crashed onto the floor when he nearly knocked it off, clumsily reaching for his Budweiser.
Grim never drank that shit. He swore it tasted like piss, but here he was, slinging down the contents like it was the best fucking thing he had ever tasted.
Yep. The pres was drunk.
Without Trish here to balance him, he’d gotten smashed. Fatherhood and the club took their toll, but Grim never fucking complained. No Royal Bastard bitched about shit like that. We weren’t pussies.
Trish remained at home with Creed, who had a cold. I heard that she’d insisted Grim come to the clubhouse, letting her care for the little one because Grim was hovering too much and driving her crazy. Made me chuckle a little. No one could say he wasn’t a devoted father, though.
Most of the ol’ ladies were at the Crossroads tonight, making it feel warmer than it had in a long while. Grim liked to assemble these social gatherings as often as we could. Babies, women, a few kids, all the members, and more than a few familiar faces were scattered about, playing pool or catchin’ up.
One face in particular never failed to catch my eye. Why I was so attracted to that little blonde friend of Sasha’s, I would never know. She wasn’t my usual type since I loved brunettes, but she did something wicked to my heart, and my Reaper craved Gina so intensely that I dreamed about her. A lot.
Like last night. And last week.
Fuck. Even last month.
Since that fateful February when I saw Gina for the first time.
It was fucking weird.
Grim followed my gaze, his lips curling into a knowing grin. “Better watch out for that one. She’s trouble.”
I knew that, but it didn’t matter. I still wanted her, even if she had a shady past and two kids. I wasn’t dumb enough to think that a woman that beautiful didn’t have other men in her life. I just wanted to be the one she was currently fucking. If things worked out, we could talk about it. But I didn’t walk into relationships fast when kids were involved.
Just too fucking painful when it didn’t work out.
“I’ll catch you later, pres.”
He chuckled as I made my way to Gina, and she spotted me, smiling as I stood next to her. Maybe I’d grown observant, or perhaps it was just the fact that I’d been around her often, but I could tell something was off. Her expression was somber, but the dullness in her eyes warned me to tread softly.
Long ago, I met a young Hispanic woman who couldn’t escape the trouble that hunted her or the tragic hand of fate that robbed her of happiness. Now, all these years later, I could never turn away when that feeling of trepidation rose. Intuition? Maybe. I’d argue the Reaper inside me sensed things I couldn’t. Through our bond, I felt things other men weren’t aware of and combined with our abilities, my Reaper and I experienced heightened awareness. I’d even say we glimpsed the past and future but that was usually only when I touched blood.
I ticked my head toward the exit, hoping I was wrong and Gina’s world wasn’t tainted by darkness. “Need some fresh air?”
“Sure,” she replied, too distracted to notice when my hand rested against her lower back, guiding her into the warm Nevada night air.
We walked out and stood under the stars, leaning against her car. “You seem a little distracted. You okay?” I ventured, knowing I couldn’t let it go, even if she didn’t like me prying into her business.
Her nod was too quick. “Of course.”
“Hey, it’s me—a friend. You can share shit, and I won’t blab a word. Promise.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because you belong to an outlaw motorcycle club, and I’ve got enough of that problem.”