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EMMIE
Throwing back the last of my drink, I slam the glass down on the table and laugh at the pathetic joke Xander just told.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” I blurt out, my words slurred from the number of vodkas I’ve had.
Cruz eyes me from the other end of the table, but I just wave him off.
I’m good. I’m in control and the vodka is just feeding the excitement bubbling in my belly from blowing that demanding arsehole off.
I smile to myself, thinking about my turned-off phone sitting in my bedroom.
Take that, fuckwit.
I can almost picture him climbing through the window I left cracked open especially for him and finding it sitting there with the note I left.
Try better next time.
I can’t help myself. I blame the vodka, but I giggle to myself as I think of the furious expression on his face as he stares down at that note.
Things might have changed between us the other night. I might have opened up and let him see some of my more vulnerable parts, but that doesn’t mean I’m about to follow the second he snaps his fingers. And that’s exactly why I jumped at the chance to hang out here tonight with Xander and the guys instead of waiting around in his flat like a desperate slut as he requested.
The knowledge that he’d somehow given me permission to get inside should have been enough to take him up on the offer, really. A chance to properly snoop around, knowing that he wouldn’t be there to catch me.
But what exactly would I get from that?
I’m not interested in his deep and dark secrets. I can take a good guess at some of the shit he’s done. And while it might terrify some girls, quite honestly, I don’t really care.
What he does, what my pops and Cruz do, what my dad did… It’s their lives. And who am I to criticise that?
They want to go out there and kill people, well, that’s on their conscience, not mine.
“What’s amusing you?” Gunner, one of Xander’s mates asks. “X’s joke doesn’t deserve that reaction.”
“Too fucking right. Private joke,” I say, gesturing to my empty glass when the prospect who’s running the bar tonight comes over to clear the table.
“Cruz has cut you off, Princess.”
My teeth grind at that nickname.
“Cruz can get fucked,” I say loud enough so he can hear me.
My uncle just smiles and shakes his head. ‘One more’, he mouths to his prospect.
“You heard it from the boss, Princess.”
I narrow my eyes at him, whatever his name is. “You wanna keep that patch, I suggest you keep me happy,” I joke, but the way his face pales makes me wonder just how much power I might have.
Maybe being the club princess isn’t all that bad.
The second he delivers my drink, I throw it back in one and excuse myself to the ladies’.
On my way back, I turn the music up that was playing quietly from the speakers on the bar, much to the annoyance of the crowd of older members who are watching sports on the flat screen on the other side of the clubhouse.
“Dance with me,” I say, holding my hand out to Xander when I get to our table.
Hoots and hollers come from the rest of the guys.
“Get in there X, my man,” Gunner jokes.
