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“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“Paying the bill.”
“I see that. But why?”
“Because that’s what you do when you go to a restaurant. You order food, you eat it, you pay for it.”
I rolled my eyes and reached for my purse. “I know. I just meant—I wanted to pay.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not a charity case.”
He frowned. “Okay.”
“You paid for dinner last night.”
“No, I paid for coffee and dessert. I don’t understand what the hell is going on here.”
“Your club is already helping me,” I said. “You’ve given me a place to crash and a job. The least I can do is treat you to a meal.”
His tight expression didn’t change but he took the bills from the check presenter and then handed it to me.
I blinked as I took it.
“You know this shit really doesn’t matter, right?” he said. “You’re not in debt to the club. You don’t owe us anything.”
I clutched the check presenter tighter and nodded.
I didn’t believe that people ever helped one another without asking for something in return. Carla was different, but then again, we both rarely ever asked one another for help. We lived by the same code.
“If it feels like a debt, then it’s a debt.” I stuck cash in the check presenter and then set it down on the table. “And I always pay my debts.”
Chapter9
The clubhouse was swarmingwith people when Viper and I arrived. Rock music blared from the speakers inside. The kitchen counters were littered with several bottles of liquor, mixers, and stacks of red cups and shot glasses.
I didn’t recognize anyone.
Savage traipsed down the hall and when he saw me and Viper standing near the door, he immediately came forward. A grin spread across his face as he slapped Viper on the back.
“You guys are just in time for the party,” he said.
I wasn’t in the mood for a party. I wanted to escape to my room with my new toiletries and then take a shower and crash for a bit. I was only running on a few hours of sleep, and my conversation with Viper was still churning over in my brain.
“What do you want to drink?” Savage asked me.
“A beer, I guess,” I said, against my better judgement.
“Haven’t got any. Just liquor,” Savage said. “Bourbon, Scotch, Irish whiskey, or tequila. Mixers and ice if you want them.”
Viper muttered something under his breath.
“What was that?” I asked him.
“Nothing,” he growled.
“Bourbon,” I said to Savage. “With Coke.”
