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Cary, still somewhat newly out of prison, was happy to be making up for lost time. He shot the woman a devilish smirk as he slid into the seat next to her.

"Good man," Dezi said, slapping his hand into Cary's shoulder. "Alright. I got your little brother and Seth shacked up with some long-legged beauties. Who is left?"

"Brooks," I suggested.

"Brooks headed out a couple minutes ago. The man is allergic to a good time, I swear," Dezi declared, reaching into his pocket for a vape pen, despite there being signs about not using them inside, taking a long drag, then breathing out the smoke into a blueberry-scented cloud in my face. "So that just leaves..."

"Slash," I supplied. "What?" I asked at Dezi's wide-eyed look.

"He scares the chicks away, man!" Dezi declared, voice low.

"Chicks dig scars," I insisted.

"Chicks dig some scars, yeah. But the scars on his face look like a red flag. You know. They almost look like scratch marks, you know?" he said, wincing.

"They're too big and deep for scratch marks."

"Well, you and I know that, but the average woman? Not so much. And if that wasn't enough, there is the dark cloud hanging around him all the time. You think his buddies are the same way?" he asked.

A couple of Slash's men were coming into town for us to get to know before my father and I made a decision about the new chapter.

"Dunno."

"Hope not," Dezi said. "You've been enough doom-and-gloom for us lately," he told me, tssking his tongue at me before turning back to the bar.

It was right then that I turned around.

And fucking Danny nearly rammed right into me.

"Oh, son of a bitch," she hissed, gaze right on me, so there was no mistaking where her disgusted tone was directed.

She didn't have her usual posse of men with her. Which was unusual. Though, I had to admit, there were times when I just wanted to get out of the club, and go out by myself here and there.

It was different now that I was replacing my old man while he stepped back. I wasn't just 'one of the guys' like I'd been in the past. I was almost acutely aware of my leadership role, of how I needed to set an example for the others. It made me more careful about my words and my actions. And after spending my whole life being careless about both those things, it grated a bit to keep that cool. Sometimes, I just wanted an hour or two away to loosen up.

I could see how that could go double for Danny and her club.

Despite my better judgement, I found myself thinking about her club and her position in it a lot more often than I should. It was a unique dynamic. I didn't know of any other all-male MCs run by a woman. Sure, there were a few more progressive MCs around these days that had both male and female members. But that wasn't what the Vultures were like. It was Danny, the lone female leader, and twenty-something men.

Danny.

The most aggravating woman I'd ever met.

Which was saying something because I'd been raised around a bunch of headstrong, stubborn-ass, loud-mouthed cousins. And not to mention my sister.

I was used to women who had no give, who knew who they were, what they wanted, and were all-too-happy to tell you to fuck off if you got in their way.

Which was why Danny shouldn't have been able to get the better of me.

Yet she did.

Almost every fucking time I ran across her.

Including this time.

"Hey, don't sweat it, man," Dezi said, nudging my side with his elbow after Danny walked away. "Being full of that much venom, and spitting it at anyone in her path, that shit is a trauma response."

"It's a... what?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Trauma response."

"The fuck do you know about trauma responses?" I shot back.

See, I said Brooks was hard to get a read on. And that was true. But sometimes, Dezi came out with shit like that, and made you reevaluate if you had him pegged at all. Because it didn't make sense for a careless, crazy, unpredictable loose cannon to know phrases like 'trauma response.'

"Just saying. Can't imagine a chick growing up in an MC had it easy. And getting enough respect to get to be a president? That shit must have left some scars. She takes that damage out on you because she thinks you got it easy."

And to be fair, I guess I had.

I felt I'd paid my dues, pulled my weight, and proved myself.

But there was never any question about whether I was going to take over the MC or not.

I could see if she went through hell to get her position, how she might resent me getting mine more easily.

"Hot as shit, though," Dezi said, shaking his head. "I've only ever creeped on her from the rooftop with Malc and Brooks. But, fuck," he hissed, shaking his head.

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