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Rooster parks near Dex and Jigsaw and turns to me. “You okay?”
“A little nervous.”
“Don’t be. We’ve been friends with this club for years.”
Jigsaw and Dex are laughing as we approach.
“You make the prospect piss his pants?” Rooster lightly punches Jigsaw’s shoulder.
Jigsaw touches his chest briefly. “Who, me? Naw, I was nothing but sweetness.”
Dex rolls his eyes. “Poor kids. Surprised a full-patch isn’t supervising them.” He lifts his chin at me. “Didn’t think you’d be seeing this much of backwoods, New York, did ya?”
I let out a soft laugh. “Not really. It’s pretty out here, though.”
“Hey.” Rooster leans closer to the guys. “Keep an eye on her, okay?” His gaze shifts to Jigsaw. “I know you’re dying to fill your wet dick bingo card but control yourself.”
Jigsaw blinks. One corner of his mouth curls up. “Always, brother.”
Together, we approach the front of the club. Two more bikers in cuts study us under the bright security lights before pulling the doors open wide for us to enter.
It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the dim interior. The entryway opens up to a wide main room full of bikers and scantily clad women. I glance down at my denim skirt, flamingo tank top and cowgirl boots. Maybe not the best biker girlfriend’s outfit.
Men acknowledge us as we pass.
The threat Rooster poses is reflected in the eyes of the bikers of this club—in the respect they offer when they nod and shake his hand. The tension that ripples through the air as we move through the clubhouse.
In Rooster’s world, these men know who they can and can’t fuck with. In my world, some men are too stupid to figure out when danger’s walking among them.
If my father could see me now, hanging out at Chaser Adams’ motorcycle club. The thought of my father dampens my enthusiasm for the evening ahead. Pisses me off too.
Chaser’s imposing figure is easy to spot by the bar. Even his own MC brothers keep a respectful distance around him and the blonde at his side.
Rooster taps Jigsaw and Dex. When he has their attention, he jerks his head in Chaser’s direction.
“We need to say hello.” Rooster leans closer to me. “Pay our respects to our host.”
“Sure.”
“Rooster!” Chaser shouts over the crowd when he spots our little group. He raises his hand high in the air, motioning us over.
“Glad you made it.” Chaser takes Rooster’s outstretched hand and pulls him in for a friendly pat on the shoulder.
“Thanks for the invite.”
Chaser wraps his arm around the beautiful blonde woman next to him. “Mallory, this is Shelby. Shelby, my wife, Mallory.”
Mallory reaches for me before her husband even finishes the introductions. “Welcome. It’s so nice to meet you. Angelina came home all excited from the show.” She squeezes me tight.
At least this president’s wife is nothing like Tawny. Mallory’s bubbly and kind, turning us toward the bar and signaling for the girl behind it to bring us drinks. “This is your first tour, right?” she asks.
“Yup. So far it’s been an adventure.”Chapter Twenty-NineRooster
Whether or not it was calculated to give Chaser and I space to talk, I appreciate Mallory being so friendly to Shelby.
“Everything go all right at the show?” Chaser asks.
“I think so.” I slap Jigsaw’s shoulder. “He helped scare the gropers away.”
Jigsaw laughs.
“You ever need some help when she’s traveling in one of our areas, say the word. I can ask a few brothers from one of our other charters to help you out.”
No doubt there will be strings attached but I appreciate the offer. “Thank you.” Fuck, I don’t have all night to initiate the delicate conversation we need to have. Any second, he’ll probably grab Mallory and take off. “How are things around here?
His friendly smile freezes in place.
He’s gonna make me get specific first. It’ll annoy Chaser more if I beat around the bush, so I guess I’m diving in. “How’s your father-in-law? We kind of cut off our assistance abruptly.”
Chaser snorts. “He’s not holding a grudge against your club. Don’t worry.”
And yet, I don’t have a warm, fuzzy reassuring feeling in my chest.
“How are things with Z at the head of your table?” he asks.
It’s unusual for bikers to stick their noses in other club’s business. Since I poked into his business first, he must’ve decided to break the code. “Good. We’re lucky to have him.” Even if that were a lie, it’s not like I’d talk shit about my president to another club. Chaser knows that.
Chaser sips his drink slowly. “Can’t imagine that’s sitting well with Sway.”
Bold statement. I shift my jaw from side to side as a few answers roll through my mind. “He’s still focused on his recovery.”
“That’s good. Fuckin’ miracle he survived.” He gives me another pointed look. “You ever catch the shooter?”
Jesus Christ.
I keep my expression blank and shrug. Explaining such a troubling internal battle to an outsider isn’t happening.
