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“Bite me, jackass.”
“Word of advice? Get new friends. Those guys are assholes.” He sighed, giving me a fake look of pity. “If you need to have some girl talk, you can always come and hang out with me. Beckett will vouch for me. I’m a really good listener and I love a good gossip session.”
Diesel barked at me to hurry up so we could leave, and once we were shut in the Escalade where the Night Thieves couldn’t hear us, he turned to me with narrowed eyes. “What the fuck, Riley?”
“What?” I shrugged, strapping myself in. “I didn’t do anything.”
“If you’re having problems with a guy harassing you—”
“I’m not having any fucking problems,” I said sharply as I cut him off. “I’m friends with one of them, and the asshole ishisfriend. Turbo won’t let him touch me.”
“Turbowatched his friend manhandle you and hardly did shit. It took Stone fucking Barrett to step in. How do you even know Turbo? He’s not in our crowd.”
“I’mnot in our crowd,” I answered dryly, glaring out the window to see Cruz and Stone walking away, both of them glancing back at us every so often, probably wondering why we hadn’t left yet. “I have my own friends, Dad.”
“Yeah, well, Ander ‘Turbo’Lavaro isn’t good company to keep,” he growled, making me tense. I didn’t like that he knew exactly who he was because that meant he knew what he got up to in his spare time.
“I stay out of his private business and he stays out of mine. We respect that,” I said calmly as I peered over at him, my stomach twisting as he started the engine and shook his head.
“If I get one whiff of that fucker dragging you into his bullshit, I’m putting him down.”
“He won’t let me near his drugs or whatever the fuck he’s running, I swear,” I replied as he drove out onto the main road, luckily not looking at me to see me cringe as he answered.
“I’m talking about his fucking underground car races, not his wannabe mafia bullshit. Big money for big stakes. I could write you a book on the list of people who have been seriously injured or killed while participating in his races. I know you like fast cars, you spend more time at the track than Beckett or the guys, but don’t let him tempt you, okay? It’s not worth it.”
If only he knew just how far I’d go to feel that rush.
* * *
“Oh, brilliant. You brought my favorite niece with you,” Rage deadpanned as we walked into the Kings’ MC clubhouse. I’d put my hood back on in the car, but I pulled it off now, giving him a bright smile, knowing he’d act like he hated it, when in reality he was a big ol’ softie for me.
“Hey, Angry Man. Did you miss me?”
“Never, you little shit,” he grunted, his bulky, tattooed arms crossed tightly. “Did you come here just to piss me off? Or did your mother finally decide she’s had enough of you and I get to bury you in the yard somewhere?”
Diesel grumbled about him being an asshole, but I laughed, annoying Rage as I threw my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Love you too.”
“Get the fuck off me,” he snarled, shoving me so gently that it did nothing. “Go play at the bar. Plenty of tits over there for you to be occupied with for the remainder of your visit.”
“Aw, you do love me,” I cooed, not missing the small smile he tried to keep to himself as I walked off to the bar, not surprised to find Sniper behind it. He’d always run the bar, and that didn’t change when he became the president of the MC.
Rage was one-hundred-percent in charge, but he’d needed someone to run the MC while he was away with the crew, which used to be a lot more than it was now.
I sat on a barstool, giving him a smile. “Hey.”
He glanced over, his eyes softening when he saw me, the creases around his eyes looking worse. I swore he’d aged ten years since I’d seen him a few months ago. “What are you doing here? It’s unlike you to visit.”
“Diesel offered for me to come with him. How are you?”
“I’m surviving.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, hating that his entire life had been flipped upside down by the loss of his traitorous boyfriend. “Want to get drunk with me?”
“I’ve been managing perfectly fine with that task on my own,” he replied lightly, but he walked around the bar and sat beside me, reaching for two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He poured us both a glass each and sat in silence for a while until he spoke. “You got girl drama? You’re not usually the type to mope and drink in the morning.”
“We always fall for the ones who will just hurt us, don’t we?” I mumbled, staring at my glass. “I’m starting to think it’s a gay person thing.”
He chuckled, but it sounded forced. “Sounds about right. I’ve sworn off relationships for the rest of my life.”
