Silas
Fuck, do those birds outside have to chirp so fucking loud in the morning? I rub my temple and move closer to the pool table to take my shot. Ever since I had my cornflakes with whiskey instead of milk and minus the cornflakes, Axe has been looking at me funny. Neither of us has seen Sabrina all morning, except for the five-minute wake-up call where she thought she could start calling the shots again. A timeout is a good idea after driving her wild in bed last night. To keep my distance, I slept on the creaking leather recliner in the MC den, surrounded by sack demons trying unsuccessfully to remove my pants, and overcompensating for their failure by pouring me more shots.
Which explains my wicked hangover.
Usually, there ain’t a damn thing that more liquor and pussy can’t fix. It’s two of the three things in our holy trinity.
Booze.
Bush.
Bullets.
Not necessarily in that order. But I don’t want justanypussy now. That’s the part that leaves me in a cloud of confusion about the petite vixen upstairs in on my bed. A slight smile slips up my lips. I’m the one who gave her a reason to be tired. Straightening my shoulders, I shoot two billiard balls into their rightful pockets.
Axe walks around the pool table, analyzing all the different options. “Man, I thought getting a piece of Sabrina would fuck with your game. Guess I shouldn’t have made that bet for a hundy. Now we know she’s not your biggest problem.”
I lean against the nearby wall with my cue in one hand. “I’ve got the prospect and a small team watching the parking lot for the others to roll in. They’ll need some downtime soon. Someone needs to relieve them later.”
The sharp clicks of the hard cue balls smashing together make me wince through my hangover. Fuck. I’ll need a few more hours of sleep after this game.
“I’m on it,” Axe confirms.
* * *
Iwakeup in the clubhouse meeting room a couple of hours later. What we’re about to do requires a clear head.
Axe walks in like he’s been monitoring the room for movements. “Got enough shuteye?”
“No, but fuck it. Sleep can wait.”
His facial expression goes serious. He hesitates for a split second and holds on to the backrest of one of the swivel chairs at the other end of the room. “Are our plans still on the books today, boss?”
I nod.
“Nice. Then it’s time.”
“Uh-huh. Time to take action. The team’s ready, right?”
“We should be all set.”
“How many do we have altogether?”
“Seventeen officers and voting members, plus us four executives. So, twenty-one in total. By the way, I put Dean on clubhouse restoration duty.”
“Good. How’s he working out?”
“So far so good.”
“Silas!” Speak of the devil. Dean, our Road Captain prospect for the club, hurls his tall, broad frame through the meeting room door. “Everyone’s here.”
“Thanks for looking out. Is Cindy back yet?”
“Yeah. She just drove up.”
“Perfect. See if anyone needs help in the back room.”
“Sure. You got it, boss.”
