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“No shit?”
I nod. “It’s a warning to us. If we don’t give up the docks, they’ll put more girls in our waters and bring unwanted attention to the port and the club.”
“Want me to take him out?”
I smile. “I was hoping to do it myself.”
“Aw, man.” He smiles and scans the customer seating area. “Where’s the hot blonde looking for Mark?”
I sigh and shake my head. “Had to send her away quick when Nogales rushed in. And don’t you ever fucking call me that.”
“Shit. Do we need to keep eyes on her?”
“Maybe.” Shit, McKenna is definitely on Nogales’ radar now. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I bet you will,” Joaquin chuckles to himself.
“Shut it.”
Joaquin laughs again because the kid always finds a way to enjoy himself, to have fun, no matter what shit life throws his way. “My lips are sealed.”
“Good. Where’s Shades and Coop?”
“Shades is at the clubhouse, and I think Coop is doing a shift at the shop. Said something about needing to clear his head.”
“All right.” The news from Nogales didn’t warrant a meeting, not when the MC is spread so thin to keep an eye on the port, the girls, and our other ventures.
“I’m leaving. Keep an eye on things while I’m gone.”
“You got it. I think they’re almost finished with the restoration on that ’69 Harley Electra. The guy wants it done in pink for his woman, so they can ride together.”
Joaquin’s snort tells me what he thinks of the idea of riding alongside a woman on a pink bike. “Whatever flicks his dick, I guess.”
I make my way to the shop to let Coop know what’s going on with the Iron Kings.
“He admitted it, so now we know what we’re dealing with.”
“Shit.” Coop nods and rakes a hand through his hair. “I’ll let Kelsey know to be extra careful when she goes out. Her and the other girls.”
I nod. “Good idea. I’ll spread the word to the working girls.” There are too many women in our lives between the club bitches, old ladies, and family members to keep safe around the clock. But they all have to be informed.
“I’ll take Kelsey to break the news to McKenna.”
Everything in me wants to tell Coop that I’ll go talk to McKenna, but this news should come from her sister.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Fuck, no,” Coop snorts. “Kels is still pissed at her, but this news is kind of devastating, so she’ll put it aside for an hour or two and do what’s right.”
“All right. I’m going to the houses to warn the girls. Then I’m going to the gym. We need to recruit more prospects. Our manpower is getting thin.”
Usually, I go to the gym in the morning because it helps center me. Keeps me from losing my shit over the small things. But the Iron Kings bullshit has thrown all the schedules out of whack, and the custom bike jobs are piling up.
Coop nods, his attention already on something else. “I know a hell of a lot of clubs from my nomad days—which, by the way—are not over. Let me see what I can do. I’ll check back in a few hours.”
“Sounds good, man.”
Chapter Thirteen
McKenna
“Are you sure you’re all right, McKenna? You seem a little, I don’t know, off.” Willow stares at me, her big blue eyes hold so much worry it’s sweet, but sweet is probably what got Grace killed.
“I’m fine,” I tell her over the music. I’d guilted her into coming to a nightclub with me, but I’m not sure either of us are really in the mood.
“Just grief, I guess.”
That much is true. After Mark’s rotten behavior earlier today, I went home and stewed and cried and got sad. Then I got angry.
Fuck Mark, aka Ace, the asshole. He’s not the first guy who isn’t the man I thought he was, and he won’t be the last. Statistically, most guys are jerks, but to his credit, he didn’t wait for months to let that part of his personality shine through.
I raise my empty glass to Willow. “Another shot?”
Willow nods but gives me a wary expression. “Sure.”
I reach out to a passing waitress. “Four shots, please, two fireballs and two tropical shots. Something with whipped cream.”
The waitress nods and looks down at my hand, still gripping her forearm. “Sorry. And thank you.”
She smiles and saunters off, and I drop down onto the leather sofa in the VIP section of Club Dynasty. It’s one of the hottest clubs in Angel Harbor. Not everyone can get in; you need the right clothes, the right look, and on nights like tonight, the right password. But this place is just what I need after the day I’ve had.
“Kenna,” Willow shouts to me over the music. “It’s okay to be sad.”
I nod and blink back tears that have been threatening to fall since I finished reading Grace’s diary this afternoon, which is why I’m at the club just days after her death instead of at home grieving. Mourning.
