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Barber huffed. “Don’t say that around Undertaker, or he’ll prove you wrong.”
“Oh, well....” Charley shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right.”
I stared around. “Which one is he?”
“Oh, he’s not here right now. He sleeps in a coffin and can’t come out during the daytime.” Barber smirked. “He’s a vampire.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, nodding. The supernatural wasn’t real, but what did I know?
Charley shook his head at Barber and his eyes narrowed. “You really have a death wish, don’t you? He hates that shit. King told me once that he gutted someone for calling him a vampire. Turned their entrails into a necklace and wore it around.”
“What hasn’t he gutted someone for? You know, I like to keep things interesting.” Barber winked. “Let him try.”
A man with an angular face in a black suit came up at Barber’s side and leaned an elbow against the bar, staring at him. His bright blue eyes startled me into sitting up straight.
“Excuse me?” he said in a low tone.
Barber flinched and nearly fell off his stool as he whipped around to stare at the new man. “What are you doing here?”
“Aaron left some paperwork for me, and I couldn’t help but overhear what you said. For your information, I don’t sleep in a coffin. I sleep in a BDSM dungeon.” He grinned at me, and I noticed his sharp incisors. I could only assume this was Undertaker.
“A.... A....”
“Dungeon,” he finished helpfully, then licked his lips. “And I do have a taste for blood.”
I opened my mouth, and I had no idea what I was going to say because my brain was in a whirl, but Ethan came out of the hallway he’d disappeared into earlier, and I nearly died leaping off my stool to rush across the black tiles over to him.
He opened his arms and caught me as I smashed against him, then glared at the men at the bar. “What did they do to you?”
“Nothing,” I said, my face heating. I cleared my throat and stepped back, crossing my arms. “I’m fine.”
“They behaved themselves. Mostly,” Josh called over with a grin, and Scar came out from the hallway behind us and scared the crap out of me. I was back in Ethan’s arms again, somehow. Scar whapped Ethan on the back in a friendly pat that moved us both.
“All right, kid. Come outside with me.”
The guys at the bar all exchanged looks. “Did he just say kid and not fuckhead?” Barber asked Charley.
Charley hummed and nodded.
I couldn’t help it. I didn’t care what it looked like, I clung to Ethan’s hand, and he held on to me. Scar went over to the bar and said something to Josh, who bent down and popped back up with a key ring he tossed to Scar.
“You sure about that?” Barber asked, whirling around to look at Ethan. “You didn’t get King’s permission. We should technically vote.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Scar scowled. “And you better not start shit at the vote. This one deserves a shot.”
“What does he mean?” I whispered to Ethan.
He sighed. “I think I joined a motorcycle club today?” He gave me a smile that wasn’t like his usual confident ones.
“Come on,” Scar said, and his boots were loud as he stomped across the room. Ethan and I glanced at each other, then followed him outside. The other guys who’d been at the bar marched out after us, and Ethan wrapped his arm around my waist. Scar walked along a row of shiny motorcycles and stopped at an older looking one with faded black paint. I knew nothing about motorcycles, but the Harley logo was hard to miss. I stared at the sidecar attached to the bike.
“Fuck, I’m gonna get made fun of with this shit,” Ethan said, tapping his boot to the sidecar. Sunshine glinted on the chrome, which was scratch free, even though the bike was clearly old.
Scar shook his head. “You live outside of town, and I don’t trust your riding enough to put this one on with you.” He jerked his thumb in my direction. “Leave the sidecar hooked up. When King gets back in town and we get this prospect shit sorted out and it’s permanent, he’ll take you out and teach you how to ride right. Then we can ditch the sidecar, and I won’t worry that you’re gonna dump your boy on the highway.”
Ethan’s chest puffed up like maybe he was offended, but Undertaker stood nearby with his hand on his hip and made a small noise. “King is the best rider in the club. I’m okay—” Scar snorted and grinned at Undertaker. “—but if King tells me something, I take it into consideration. Scar is doing you a favor.” He lowered his eyelids. I wouldn’t say he was glaring so much as tired of the situation.
“Fuck it, fine,” Ethan said. He held out his hand, and Scar slapped the key into it.
