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"Anyway, yeah, it all rang true when they looked into them," Maze went on. "Their MC had a raid when they were on a job in PA, and the cops found like a kilo of cocaine there. Given that half the people there were on parole for one thing or another, they all got hauled in. Down went the Twisted Roadsters."
"Well, with a lame ass name like that, they needed to disappear," I agreed with a chuckle. "And Roderick?"
"Mm," Maze said, sending Penny a look that said they both thought he was hot shit.
"Hey," Cyrus said, small-eyeing them. "I'm the pretty one here, damnit. Don't be going googly eyes because he has those Spanish genes."
"Yes, very pretty," Maze agreed, stroking his arm.
"So pretty," Penny added, patting his other hand.
"Anyway, they can't find him, believe it or not."
"No shit?"
"I know, right? It's driving them up a friggen wall. You know how obsessive they get. Wolf said Janie hasn't slept in three nights. I heard him barking 'woman' at her at like three this morning."
Then, like we had summoned them, the front door burst open, bringing the guys in from the gym, clothes still slick with sweat, gym bags over their shoulders or in their hands.
"Keep it in your pants, ladies," Cy said under his breath, making Penny blush and look over at Duke, and Maze give him the finger.
"Hey," Roderick said, stopping a few feet from me, jerking his chin. "We heard you're the one to fuck shit up with."
Well, my reputation certainly proceeded me.
"That'd be me."
"Heard a rumor about you having a whole shitton of ATVs and a disposition that makes you like to get drunk and crash them."
Again, true.
"Yep."
"The fuck we still doing here then?" Roderick asked, waving a hand out.
"You know what? Fuck yeah," I agreed.
I needed a distraction.
Because this fucking Kennedy-every-other-thought shit was whacked.
So then we got shitfaced and crashed ATVs.
Laz came, being a good DD, picked us up, brought us back to the compound, and we continued the party until we all were so fucking drunk, we passed out all around the common room.
A hungover fight.
Those were usually my best ones.
Even as that thought formed, so did one about wondering what Kennedy would wear cage-side.
Fucking Christ.SEVENKennedyOkay, so I was excited.
I was Christmas Eve when you still believe in Santa excited.
Which was a testament to how boring my life had been for almost a full year now. My idea of a night out was pretty much hitting up the grocery store. The highlight of my week was when something that I loved that was usually too expensive for my budget was on sale suddenly.
Benny and I left work after our last client, him walking me toward my place before taking off to go get himself showered and changed.
I walked around the side of the house to my "private entrance" that was boasted in the ad I found on Craigslist. It really wasn't actually a private entrance at all. It was a door that led onto the back deck, but whatever, it meant I could come and go without grumpy old Carl getting his panties in a wad. I also had a "private bath" which was actually the room which used to be my closet completely jammed with a shower stall barely big enough to turn in, a toilet, and a sink. But, again, it was mine. And it was cheap. And I had no other options.
The fact that I had to seal the door to the rest of the house with duct tape from the inside because Carl was an indoor chainsmoker was just another thing I had to learn to live with. It meant I had no access to the kitchen or any of the kitchen features, namely the stove and fridge. So I had a teensy apartment fridge with a microwave on top and a hot plate on top of that.
Living large, I was.
I came from truly humble beginnings, but the life I was living now made my childhood seem almost rich by comparison.
"One more year," I reminded myself as I shrugged out of my work clothes and walked over to the window AC unit to switch it on. I didn't use it often since I was charged more for rent when I did. Never mind that Carl left four other ones running throughout the house day and night. But when I was getting ready for work or, in this case, to go out, I put it on so I didn't sweat through my bra, hairstyle, and makeup before I even left the house.
I moved over to the rack I had bought at a discount store. It was where I hung my clothes because of the aforementioned bathroom closet situation, and looked around for something that seemed appropriate for an underground fighting ring.
I owned a lot of dresses, but they were of the pretty, floral, sun variety which seemed too light and sweet for such a dark and dirty type of event. I considered the black dress that Ethan suggested, one I had always loved because it fit just right, but suddenly it made my lip curl at the idea of ever wearing it again.
