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Which he was not.
Considering he got his last friend killed.
Fuck. What the hell was wrong with this weak-ass whisky?
He downed another shot and took the bait. Better than talking about Olivia. “Fucked that waitress from Buck’s not long ago.” God, it had to have been three months by now. Pathetic.
Tracker frowned. “Jenny?”
“Fuck if I know.” He’d known her name at one point. “Good lips. Sucked a mean dick.”
“Yep. That’s Jenny.”
He grunted, not caring in the least that Tracker had also had her mouth on his dick. Maybe the alcohol was kicking in.
Finally.
Ty, Curly’s cousin, and the MC’s VP, sauntered up to the bar and dropped his ass on the other side of Scott. His shaggy hair needed a trim two months ago. The guy was getting downright scruffy. Ty didn’t give a shit about it, though. He was about as low maintenance as they came. “JT, get me a beer. What are you hens clucking about?”
“Last time Spec got laid,” Tracker quipped.
Ty accepted the beer from the hangaround. “What’s it been three, four years? Sucks, buddy, but not everyone’s blessed with a monster cock like me. Can’t keep the honeys away for shit.”
Tracker let out a boisterous laugh, slapping the bar. “Honeys? What year is this? Nineteen sixty?”
Even Scott laughed at that one. Yep, the booze was doing its job. Pretty much the only time he laughed these days was when his blood-alcohol level exceeded the legal limit.
They bullshitted for a few minutes before Tracker went off to text his next conquest. Scott stayed at the bar with Ty, who asked, “You okay, brother?”
“Dandy.”
As Ty grunted his disbelief, Lock and Pulse burst into the clubhouse with Jinx trailing behind. That huge fucker worked for Ty and was the only one who’d been absent that afternoon when Scott lost his shit on Olivia.
“I’m fucking thirsty!” Jinx shouted. “JT, get me some vodka.”
Pulse wandered over. “Nice thing you did, Spec,” he said, clapping Scott on the shoulder.
“The fuck you talking about? I don’t do nice shit.”
Pulse was a nurse. He was the only one of them who’d been a little wishy-washy about patching with the club. He was an intense guy. Most serious of the bunch. Probably the smartest too. They’d already needed his medical experience on more than one occasion.
And not just to mend guys Scott had beaten up, though there had been one or two of those.
Whatever, they’d all deserved it and more.
Chuckling, Pulse said, “I’m talking about the fancy lady. How you let her stay here.”
An icy wave of rage crested over Scott in an instant. He shoved away from the bar and got in Pulse’s face. The metal stool clamored to the ground, but he barely registered the loud clatter. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Pulse lifted his hands and took a step back. “Jesus, brother, chill… not looking to piss you off. I’m talking about that woman who came to see you. Just glad you worked your shit out enough to let her stay.”
“Let her stay?” The ice in his veins melted, replaced by boiling hot fury.
Pulse’s gaze shifted back and forth between Ty, who’d risen from his stool, and Lock, who was approaching from the side. He was another one who stayed on the quieter side.
“Uh, she’s crashing in the apartment across from you.” Pulse’s forehead wrinkled. “Did you not know?”
“What?” He exploded forward, shoving Pulse into the nearest table. She was in the apartment across from him? What the hell? Now he’d have to see her every day? To see Deke’s eyes and be reminded of his failures even more than usual. Fuck, no. He’d rather die. He clenched his fist. One punch to Pulse’s mouth would end the garbage spewing from it.
“What the fuck, man?” Jinx yelled as he and Ty grabbed Scott’s arms and yanked him back. Lock jumped in the middle, holding a hand out to ward him away.
With the six-foot-six behemoth, Jinx, holding him back, Scott had no chance of smacking the shit out of Pulse. “He’s fucking messing with me, and it’s bullshit,” he shouted, pointing a finger in Jinx’s face.
“So you’re gonna beat his ass?” Ty yelled. He and Jinx muscled him away from a furious Pulse. “You’re wasted and need to simmer the hell down.”
“You’re goddamn right I’m gonna beat his ass.” Scott lunged but couldn’t escape the hold his brothers had on him. “Tell me you’re fucking lying.” How the hell was he supposed to function with Deke’s little sister walking around the compound, reminding him of the worst moments of his life every day.
“Enough!” Curly roared into the mayhem. The room quieted as they all looked toward the entrance, where Curly stood with Brooke and none other than Olivia.
For fuck’s sake.
He clenched his jaw. Why the fuck hadn’t she left? And why was she so fucking pretty, standing there in that ridiculous dress with those long sexy legs and his favorite kind of tits—not too big, not too small, very perfect for his hands. Through the alcohol and even his dislike for her, his dick twitched.
