Page 142 of Rust or Ride


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I move through the club as unobtrusively as my big body, the clustered tables, and packed customers allow. An upbeat, positive energy seems to be flowing through the air. It isn’t always this way and can change in an instant. I check in with our guy manning the VIP rooms and glance at the monitors. Each room is occupied. Good for business. Is it too much to ask that it stay this way until closing?

As I emerge from the hallway, I catch Ravage and Bricks waving to me from the other side of the club. Avoiding getting too close to the stage and the eager men surrounding it, I make my way over to them.

“What’s good, brother?” Bricks greets me with a fist bump.

“What’re you doing here?” I ask, pleased to see him.

He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at Rav. “This clown said you needed extra hands.” He holds his hands in the air and waves them in front of my face. “So here I am.”

I tilt my head in the direction of my office. “Let’s sit down for a second and catch up. I can’t hear shit out here.”

They nod and follow me to the office. With the door closed, a good portion of the noise is muffled. I glance at the screens showing different areas of the club before sitting down behind the desk.

“Wouldn’t you rather be home with the family?” I ask Bricks.

He scowls at the question, throws a glance at Ravage, then shrugs. “My kids are with their mom.” He pulls a sour face at the mention of his ex. “And Winter keeps bugging me about having another kid.”

“So?” Ravage asks.

Bricks throws him a mind-your-business scowl. “I’d rather avoid that argument tonight.”

Ravage’s eyes widen and he bites down on his lip, like he’s dying to razz Bricks but somewhere deep down realizes this isn’t the time.

Honestly, I’m not sure what to say either. “Sorry, brother.”

He shrugs again. “We have enough kids to keep track of. Deacon and Lisa are getting older, so she says they can help out, but I’m not cool with turning them into built-in babysitters. And Caleb’s just getting to the point where he’s a cool little dude. I don’t want to deal with a baby again.”

Rav’s held out as long as he could. “I thought Mexicans liked big families?”

Bricks reaches over and smacks the back of Rav’s head. “For the last fucking time, I’m Puerto Rican.”

“The fuck is wrong with you, Rav?” I rub my fingers over my forehead, fending off a Ravage-induced headache.

“What?” Rav grins and points his thumb at Bricks, like they’re partners in crime. “It’s our thing.”

Bricks rolls his eyes. “The shockingly stupid shit that comes out of your mouth isnot‘our thing.’”

“You sure you wouldn’t rather go home and talk things out with her?” I ask Bricks, ignoring Rav.

“No. I’m running out of ways to sneak on a condom,” Bricks says.

I hold up one hand. “That’s more than I needed to know.”

Rav leans toward Bricks like he has confidential information to share. “You should always keep your shit wrapped anyway. Chicks can put a hex on you if they get a sample of your spunk.”

Bricks looks from Ravage to me, like we’re playing a joke on him. “What the fuck?”

We should know better than to try to have an adult conversation around Rav.

We’re saved by someone knocking on the door.

“Come in!” I shout. “Please, God, come in,” I mutter under my breath.

Rav stands and opens the door. Kyla peeks her head inside.

“I, uh, I’m done with my shift. Can someone walk me out?” she asks.

“Yeah.” I curl my finger at her, motioning her into the office.

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