Page 147 of Property of Whiskey

“I’m standing right here.”

“I know.”

“Then quit talking about me like I’m a lamp.”

Royal looks at Whiskey. “I like her.”

Whiskey’s face goes hard. “No, you don’t.”

Royal laughs.

Becki elbows him. “Quit poking the bear.”

“Which one?”

She looks between Whiskey and me. “Both.”

A woman appears in the doorway beyond them.

Sophie.

I know her well enough by now. We’ve already spent more time than either of us wanted following questions that kept circling back to her father, Montgomery money, and Pearly Gates. Tonight she has a mug in one hand and looks tired enough that makeup wouldn’t have helped if she’d bothered.

Her gaze moves over me, then Whiskey, then whatever she sees between us.

One eyebrow rises slightly.

“Deputy Dix.”

“Sophie.”

“Why the fuck is Sheriff Dix’s daughter in my clubhouse?” Legend’s voice comes from behind her. He steps into the hall, and the room changes around him.

Not silence exactly.

Alignment.

Men who were leaning stand straighter. Conversations drop lower. Nobody has to be told to pay attention.

That’s what power looks like when nobody needs to announce it.

Legend’s gaze lands on me.

Then Whiskey.

Then me again.

Whiskey opens his mouth.

“He kidnapped me,” I say.

Legend doesn’t blink. “I asked why you’re here. Not how you got here.”

I stare at him.

Sophie closes her eyes briefly.

Royal starts laughing.