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“Yah know, she was happy to help,” he says, winking.
I grab his collar and shove him against the wall. “You were fucking some bitch instead of watching Rosey?”
“Rosey can handle herself,” he argues.
“Get the hell out of my sight right now before I put you in the ground.”
Rosey ignores my calls, and when I go to the clubhouse, she’s not there. But I find her at Bertie’s propping up the bar and chatting with my bar staff. When she sees me, she turns her back, clearly ignoring me.
“This is bullshit,” I whisper into her ear from behind her. “You’re mad I saved you?”
She spins to face me, her expression angry. “I don’t need saving, Albert. I do just fine on my own.”
She’s drunk. “Doesn’t it get tiring?” I ask, stroking a finger down her cheek. “Pretending you’ve got your shit together?” I walk away and head to the office, giving her the time she needs to calm down.
It’s almost an hour later when security calls me and asks me to come and get her from the bar. I head right down to where she’s arguing with my bar staff for another drink. We have a policy that we don’t serve to anyone who appears drunk. She doesn’t see me coming, so I grip her upper arm, pulling her away from the bar and back towards my office.
Once we’re inside, she pulls free, turning on me. “How dare you?” she screams. I sit behind my desk and go back to the email I was reading. “And for the record, I’m not pretending. I never said I had my shit together.” I continue to ignore her. “And I don’t need you turning up when I’m on a job to rescue me. I can take down any fucking man, including Tim fucking Holden.”
I lean back and sigh. “Finished?” She folds her arms over her chest. “Good. Sit the fuck down and drink some water.” I nod at the leather couch. She snatches a whiskey bottle from the liquor cabinet and takes a seat. I decide not to rise to it, picking my battles wisely.
Chapter Eight
ROSEY
Why do I follow his orders? The question plays over in my mind while I drink from his expensive whiskey bottle. He just has this way that makes me stop and listen. No one’s done that to me since . . . I shudder with repulsion.Since Eagle. I shake my head to clear his image from my mind. Eagle was different. I was just a kid, and he scared the shit out of me. I’ve grown up since then.
I watch Albert type away on his laptop, paying me no attention. I hate that he’s ignoring me. I swig some more from the bottle and wince. I don’t even want to drink anymore—I’ve had way too much already.
I sigh heavily, trying to get him to acknowledge me. When he doesn’t, I slam the bottle on the nearby table and stand. This gets his attention, and his eyes track me to the door. “Where the fuck are you going?”
“Home,” I reply, pulling the door open.
He’s behind me in a second, slamming it closed again. “You drive me fucking insane,” he mutters. I turn to face him, trapped between the door and his body. His hands are placed either side of my head. “You’re a pain in my arse,” he adds.
“No one asked you to keep showing up.”
“Yet I do,” he says with a sigh. “And I always will.”
I scoff. “You’ll get fed up with me eventually, Bert.”
He shakes his head, gently tucking my hair away from my face. “That’s the thing, Red, I don’t think I will.” His words sit heavy on my heart. I don’t dare believe him—men never show up for long. “So, you can keep being a pain in my arse, I’m still gonna be here. Just please stop running out on me, okay? I’ll take you home if that’s what you want.”
He turns to grab his car keys. “I can look after myself,” I say quietly because I like the idea of him driving me home, but I can’t just tell him that.
“Sure, you can, Red. But I’m a gentleman, so allow me. It makes me feel better.”
I bite my lip to hide the smile. “If it makes you feel better, I guess I’ll allow it.”
I got Meli’s text message demanding I go to hers first thing and help her choose an outfit while I was eating breakfast and arguing with Mav. I use it as an excuse to get out the clubhouse before Mav lectures me on attitude and respect. He’s still yelling after me as I rush out. I go around to the back of the clubhouse and cut over the small field to where Meli and Arthur’s house sits proudly. It’s a beautiful building, and the fact it’s right on the club’s doorstep is a bonus.
I go right into the kitchen, where Arthur’s sitting with Albert, looking at the laptop. They both look up, and Arthur rolls his eyes. “You’re supposed to knock,” he comments.
I grin, knocking on the table as I pass him. “Apologies, Mr. Taylor,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Hey, do you know the surname Harrison?” asks Albert.
I shake my head. “Should I?”
