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Her smile was sheepish, but she nodded and then moved over to the room the butler had pointed to.
Because I had about as much interest in being waited on as I did in catching VD, I gave the guy a tip to get rid of him and told him we’d buzz if we wanted anything.
I’d let MaryCat handle this bozo. What might be standard for her, sure as shit wasn’t for me.
I cracked my neck the second he was gone and worked my shoulder too as I wandered around the suite, doing what MaryCat hadn’t done—oohed and aahed.
The ability to afford a place like this wasn’t why I didn’t stay in them. Brothers rested their weary bones in sister chapters on runs. Not five-star hotels. That didn’t mean I didn’t appreciate the luxury, especially after I’d pushed us both to make it here.
I grabbed a beer from the fridge even though it cost twenty-five bucks, and I sank back into a double-wide armchair that overlooked the strip.
As I stared at the mountains in the distance, I rested my ankle on my knee and chilled out some.
It wasn’t every fucking day a man got married. I deserved some zen time before I dealt with the calls and the messages on my phone.
I waited until my beer was finished to grab the charger for my cell from the saddlebags I’d hauled up with us, then once it was charging, I swiped through the notifications when the device powered on.
Deciding to deal with the Prez first, I called Rex.
“Where the fuck are you?”
I didn’t bother grimacing at his idea of a greeting and didn’t bother wasting his time by prevaricating.
“Remember that piece of shit—Bill Murphy?”
I knew I’d surprised him because he fell silent. Then, he sighed. “Tell me you didn’t beat his ass again? Rachel will not be fucking happy if you did.”
It had taken our lawyer, Rachel Laker, a lot of work to get my sentence down to three years rather than the standard eight.
When I didn’t say anything, he groaned. “You killed the fucker? Tell me where the body is and I’ll get Cruz to come and boil his bones.”
My nose crinkled. “I didn’t kill the fucker. Even if he deserved it.”
“Won’t argue.”
“Good,” I grunted. The club knew I had daddy issues.
“If you didn’t kill the bastard, then what about him?”
“Stole his fiancée.”
Rex sucked in a breath. “Explain.”
So I did.
I told him everything.
From beginning to end.
I even included saving Mrs. K’s purse from a mugger, just because I knew Rex had always had a soft spot for the teachers and staff at our old ‘alma mater.’ Dude had set records in the classes there.
If he hadn’t been born and bred to be the Prez of the Satan’s Sinners’ MC, then I was pretty fucking sure he was born to be the president of something.
Maybe even the good ol’ United States of America.
“Jesus Christ, Digger. Why am I blessed with you dipshits for brothers?” he grated out when I finished. “And don’t think that mess with Mrs. K gets you off anything. Why the fuck didn’t you come to me before you took off for Vegas?”
I grinned to myself. “Because it’s easier to say sorry after the fact?”
