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10
Chase
Johnston took one look at me when I got off my bike and shook his head. “Jesus Christ, it’s worse than what Scorpion said it was.”
Dick.
“Fuck off,” I muttered.
He gripped my shoulder when I moved past him, spinning me back around, a hard look on his face. I clenched my jaw. Yeah, I’d crossed a fucking line, but I couldn’t bring myself to care, even when he stepped toe-to-toe with me, his fingers digging into my collarbone. No doubt, I’d have bruises there later on.
“You want to fucking repeat that?” he asked me, his voice dangerously low. “I know you’re going through some shit, Chase, but I’ll knock you on your sorry ass right now.”
I clenched my jaw, biting back what I wanted to say. What I knew would start a fight. Neither of us needed that shit, and Johnston didn’t deserve my pissy-ass mood souring his. “Sorry,” I muttered.
He released me. “Watch what the fuck you say to me next time, you hear? Now get inside. I’ve got liquor and fresh pussy waiting on you down the hall in your usual room.”
Sounded fucking good to me. Maybe I could fuck Sophia out of my system this time. Hadn’t worked in the past, but maybe now that I was fucking wrecked, I could.
The mere thought of her name sent pain slicing through my chest, and I drew in a ragged breath, storming into the clubhouse. No one said a word to me, though I could see Aaliyah’s worried gaze settle on Johnston, who was no doubt still pissed off at my small outburst.
Johnston wasn’t the kind of man anyone wanted to cross. He wasn’t feared for no reason. Even fuckers like Alejandro Garcia, the leader of the Mexican Cartel, kept their mouths shut around him for the most part. Johnston didn’t like starting shit, but anyone who crossed him was a dumb mother fucker.
And just a minute ago, I’d almost been one of those dumbasses. The only reason he hadn’t swung first and talked later was because I was a member of his club.
I pushed open the door to the room I usually stayed in when I had to come to the mother charter. On the desk, there were three liquor bottles and a single glass, and laying on the bed were three women, all of them slim and fit with big tits and curvy asses.
I kicked the door shut behind me and began stripping off my clothes, only two things on my mind: getting drunk and fucking Sophia out of my goddamn system.
Because she’d fucked me up in irreparable ways.
“Alright, brother, that’s enough,” Johnston said, bursting into my room. I groaned and slowly opened my eyes. A warm mouth was wrapped around my cock, and I was so fucking out of it, I hadn’t even noticed. I pushed her off of me before sitting up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“What time is it?” I muttered. I was hungover as fuck.
“Fucking two in the afternoon on Friday,” Johnston snapped at me.
“Fuck,” I grunted. I’d been out of it for two goddamn days.
“You three—out,” Johnston ordered, pointing to the door. The girls quickly scrambled off my bed, rushing out of the room, their clothes clutched in their hands. Johnston slammed the door shut, and I winced, hissing a breath through my teeth. My fucking temples were pounding, and I was pretty sure I was going to vomit at any second now.
“Off the fucking bed, Chase,” Johnston ordered. I immediately began sliding to the edge of the mattress, swallowing vomit as I went. “You’re getting a shower, getting dressed, eating a fucking meal my wife has busted her ass to make for you, and then you’re helping me work on her car. Clear?”
“Crystal,” I grunted, pushing away from the bed. I stumbled, and Johnston watched as I gripped the bed frame. “What—going to let me hit the floor if I start falling?” I muttered, in a foul fucking mood.
“Yeah, I will. You’re the goddamn VP of my Texas charter, Chase. This shit is inexcusable. A few hours of binge drinking and some pussy, I excused. Let it go. You fucking needed it. But two fucking days, Chase? Uncalled for.”
I sighed, keeping my mouth shut. He was right. As the VP, I had an image to maintain, and this club came first. Always. I’d lost sight of that. “Give me ten minutes.”
“You have five,” Johnston told me before stepping out of the room and slamming the door shut behind him. I glared at it. No doubt, he’d done that shit on fucking purpose.
Asshole.
“You look like shit,” Aaliyah said as she set a plate in front of me. It was piled high with mashed potatoes, corn-on-the-cob, and a fried pork chop. “Eat that. Might put some color back in your cheeks.”
“I might throw it up,” I confessed.
She patted my cheek with a patronizing smile on her face. “Then I’ll just shove more food down your throat, Chase. Don’t waste my hard work like that.”
