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“Home,” Ash orders in a tone that leaves no room for argument.
Reluctantly, Juniper rolls her window up, shifts the car into gear, and pulls away from the curb. I turn and look out my window to see Ash disappearing into an alley where he parked his bike. A minute later, he catches up to us and tails us home.
“Your boyfriend is no fun.” Juniper sulks.
I side-eye her. “I told you this was a bad idea, but you didn’t listen.”
10
HARLEM
Tension continues to build as I take a long sip of my beer while sitting at the end of the bar. The cool liquid slides down my throat as I watch the new skin on the stage, trying to take my mind off Sukie, which is becoming a theme in my life.
“You want another?” one of our bartenders, Alder, asks, wiping down the bar top.
“I’m good.”
Alder nods, then walks to the other end of the bar, tending to a customer.
“A penny for your thoughts?” Astrid appears, sliding into the barstool beside me, wearing her signature red dress, her tits on full display. She grabs Alder’s attention, and he moves down the bar toward her. “A martini.” Astrid smiles at him. “And make it dirty,” she adds in her sultry voice. She turns to face me. “I’m a good listener, you know. Or maybe you could use another form of oral therapy,” she flirts.
“Got nothin’ to say,” I mutter.
In the past, I would have taken Astrid up on her second offer, but these days, the only mouth I want on my cock is a brunette with big blue eyes. And it’s fucking keeping me in a constant state of unrest.
Astrid studies me for a minute. “You look like a man with loads to say. You just don’t say it. Sooner or later, whatever is eating at you will work itself to the surface. It’s not healthy keeping shit stuffed inside.”
She’s not wrong. I’m reeling, knowing what Sukie is up to tonight. And I would have been blissfully un-fucking-ware of her current location if I hadn’t overheard Sage and Juniper’s conversation this afternoon when they swung by the tattoo shop. I was working on Salem’s new ink when his woman and her friend dropped off some lunch. They were discussing Sukie’s date with some guy she had matched with on an online dating site.
What the fuck is Sukie thinking? The pissant could be a killer.
I’m wound tight over a woman who doesn’t belong to me. Jealousy is a coldhearted motherfucker, and he has his claws dug deep into my skin.
Astrid slides off the barstool with a fresh martini in her hand. She looks over her shoulder at me as she saunters away. “Well, my private room is always open, should you change your mind.”
I stare at the bottle in my hand. It’s a short drive to the next town. I can be there and back in no time. I’ll only lay eyes on her for a minute and make sure this fuckwad she is with is treating her right. No harm, no foul.
I down what remains of my beer and head outside, mounting my bike without a second thought. I have to make sure Sukie is safe. At least, that’s what I choose to believe. I rev the engine and hit the highway, feeling the tension build in my body with each passing mile.
Finally, I arrived at the high-end restaurant. I park my bike and scan the dining area through the window, looking for Sukie. I spot her. She is sitting with a guy. I light a cigarette and watch her as jealousy rots my insides. This prick hasn’t stopped running his mouth, and Sukie hasn’t said a word. Her fake smiles do nothing to hide her misery. Her date stands and walks away from the table. Sukie’s shoulders sag as soon as he leaves, and she pushes the food around her plate with the fork. Several minutes go by, and there’s no sign of her date. Then I see the asshole exit the restaurant, light a cigarette, and walk around a bush.
I flick what’s left of my cigarette to the pavement, snuff it out with the toe of my boot, and stroll across the parking lot.
“Fuck, man. This chick is boring. I’m talking plain Jane, no personality.” I can hear the guy talking on the other side of the shrubbery as I near the entrance. He laughs. “I know her name is Sukie, and she has a decent pair of tits.” My hands tighten into fists after hearing Sukie’s name. “She better put out. I didn’t go through all this trouble to get a peck on the cheek.” My blood boils. “Shit, I’ll be doing her a favor.” He chuckles. “Catch you later, man.” Suddenly the guy rounds the corner of the shrub, smacking into my chest. “Fuck,” he’s caught off guard and leers at me. “Shit, man. My bad.” He flicks a half-smoked cigarette to the ground.
Sukie’s date shuffles sideways to move around me, but before he takes too many steps, I grab the fucker by the collar of his cheap-ass suit jacket.
“What the fuck?” His hands fly up. “My wallet is in my back pocket.”
“I don’t want your fuckin’ money,” I growl.
“I’m not looking for trouble,” he pleads.
“Sukie is off limits.”
“What?” he breathes, looking about ready to piss himself. “Are you her boyfriend or something?”
“Harlem?” My focus on dickhead here is halted by Sukie calling my name. I lift my gaze to see her slowly approaching us. “What—why are you here?” She eyes me with confusion.
