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Butch grins before wordlessly leaving to get changed. My MC brother has been waiting as long as I have to end Lucky Luca. His fondness for Candy, one of the club’s women affected by Luca’s cruelty, has earned him a spot on this assignment.
I’m downstairs in our armory, gearing up, when Punk approaches. He looks bent, with his tatted arms folded defiantly across his chest and a pissy look on his face. “Why am I not going with you?”
I look at my best friend with regret. Punk and I are a duo, always paired together, fighting side by side. But this situation calls for another brother.
“Butch needs to give Candy justice, and Atlas wants it to stay a two-man job.”
No more needs to be said. Candy is part of our MC, meaning she’s family. Besides, it’s a safe bet Butch has laid a silent claim on her, meaning Candy’s been raised to the status of old lady. Hard to tell when the guy barely talks, but Butch is clearly taken with her.
Lucky Luca may have groped my woman, but he raped Candy for years before she found refuge in our club. I would say let her have the honor, but we don’t let the women in the club get involved with the dirty work. Call it chivalry or misogynistic all you want, but MC women stay clean. They’re too valuable to be put to work in the dangerous roles our brothers face. Butch will do the honors for her.
“Sucks I can’t tag along for the fun,” Punk grumbles, slumping against the lockers. He pouts, quietly watching me get ready. Silence is odd for my jokester brother—the dude never shuts up.
“What is it?”
Punk shrugs. “Surprised you don’t want to do the honors yourself, considering you’re now boning Priss.”
My best friend and the woman I love aren’t fond of each other, all because of a bad first encounter. Punk mistook Simone as some uppity-looking door-to-door sales woman decked out in her business-chic attire when she first appeared at headquarters. The encounter earned Punk the title of “Moron,” and likewise Simone the title of “Priss.” The two of them tolerate each other on the best of days and squabble like young siblings the rest. It’ll be a cold day in hell before those two come to a truce, and it’ll probably involve me making it happen in some way.
“Don’t talk about my woman like that,” I warn him. Love my brother, but I’ll straight up beat his ass if he disrespects Simone.
“Alright. Alright. I won’t disrespect your old lady.”
“And don’t remind me I miss out on the hit. It blows, but Butch deserves it more.”
“Agreed. Does Simone know?”
My jaw tics. “No. It’s best it stays that way until the job is done. Even if I wanted her to know my plans, I can’t. She’s still avoiding me.”
Punk scratches his shaved head. “Not that I understand your attraction to Miss Priss, but give her time. She’ll come around. Simone ended shit with the loafer-dick not even two months ago. When you’ve been in a committed relationship with someone, it takes time to get over them.”
“Like you and Nat?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could recant them.
“Don’t fucking compare what I had with Nat to what Simone had with dickwad,” Punk seethes in a low tone, warning me I went too far.
Apologetically, I raise my hands. “I’m sorry, bro. That was uncalled for.” I sigh, settling on the bench in the middle of the locker room. “You know you can move on, too, right? It’s been three years.”
Nat, or Natalie, was Punk’s girl. He loved her more than life itself. And she ended up marrying his half-brother. Punk didn’t only lose her, he lost his whole family. He may go around acting like a playboy, but he’s been hurting ever since.
“I’m good, Chase,” Punk lies smoothly, smooth enough to fool everyone but me, and maybe Jo. “I score more pussy than the entire crew. Trust me, I’m over her.”
There’s no getting through to him, so I drop it. “Whatever. You only get more pussy because I’ve pulled out of the competition.”
We banter heartedly as he helps me and Butch load up the unmarked van. He salutes us as we climb in. “Godspeed, brothers.”
I call out through my open window, “Hey, Punk?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll watch over Priss while you’re gone,” he groans as he heads back into headquarters.
CHAPTERFIVE
SIMONE
There’s a knock at my door.
Not bothering to lift my head from my computer where I work on the couch, I ignore it. It’s probably Chase again, and I’m just not ready to face him yet.
Another knock follows.
