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I raised my eyebrows. “You’re in a great mood.”
“Dude, since I took over as president nearly five years ago, you haven’t had a one-night stand. Don’t try to tell me that’s all it is. I don’t have the patience. If you want to fuck her, fine—all I want to know is that you’re gonna bring me whatever the hell she writes about usbeforeit goes to Vinny.”
I nodded. “I already know about your request. Ginger told me this morning. I’ll make her bring you whatever she writes. Ginger was supposed to tell her this morning anyway. I just haven’t seen her—other than passing her on the way in from the messed-up drop.”
“Okay, that’s fine, man. I just don’t want some snooty, goody two-shoes reporter trying to paint us as the bad guys. Like you already pointed out, we have a bad image that we need to overcome, and I don’t have fucking time to deal with some stupid press.”
“I’m not gonna let her write anything bad,” I snapped. “I think I can handle the woman.”
“Right,” he chuckled, downing the rest of his drink. “If you handle your women the way you handle our damn business, then we might be in trouble.”
Anger boiled, and I bit the inside of my cheek. “You better knock off your piss poor attitude, Tip. No one purposefully missed the shipment—and you know that I wouldn’t have done that.”
“Yeah, whatever you say.”
“I probably should go check on the reporter,” I grunted, setting my empty beer bottle on the table.
“You mean get your dick wet, right?”
“You’re disgusting,” I shot back at him, sliding out of the booth. “I don’t know why you say half the shit you do.”
“Because unlike you, I like to enjoy my life instead of hating everyone around me,” he joked, giving me a grin. “But seriously, keep a close eye on her.”
“Yep,” I said over my shoulder. “Tell the guys I’ll be back at the clubhouse tonight. We might not be throwing a huge party, but I guarantee everyone will still be drinking tonight.”
“No shit.”
On the way out, I waved to fire-headed Rosie, pushing open the heavy metal doors. She left them open in the evenings, but during the day, they stayed shut. It was mostly because we did some business there, but she told everyone else that it was to keep the cool air in and the warm air out.
My eyes landed on two rogue bikers the moment I stepped out of the building, immediately recognizing them as a couple of the Lost Riders, solely based on the back of their black vests. Relief rolled over my body.
Friends.
“Yo, if it isn’t Ronny Lombardi,” one of them greeted, spinning around and giving me a grin. I immediately recognized my old friend, Frankie Upton, by the jagged scar across his olive skin. He was a tough dude, having seen more life than I ever had, and he never carried the weight of it on his shoulders, either.
“I don’t know why you always use my full name,” I chuckled, embracing him and turning to the unfamiliar face beside him. “And you must’ve brought in a new prospect?”
“Yeah, this is Connor. He doesn’t have a nickname yet, but I’m sure we’ll come up with one soon. So far, I’m thinking maybeshitheadwill do.”
The young kid, probably no older than nineteen, shook his head. “Whatever you say, boss.”
Frankie let out a graveled laugh and turned back to me. “I talked with Vinny today. He said you got some new runaround reporter doing some sort of article on MC life. I find that pretty annoying—I don’t know why Vinny was always wanting to change the way the world views us. We are what we are, you know?”
“Yeah, I don’t know.” I cleared my throat, my mind flashing to Hannah’s perfect perky tits, her face full of pleasure.
Oof.
“You all good, man?” Frankie’s voice shifted. “I, uh, heard about the fight that happened here. Things are escalating with SK, aren’t they? I really wish they’d just move out of town and get back to what they were doing before.”
“You mean, just riding around and picking fights?” I joked, shaking my head. “There’s so much shit going on with them. I think they’re trying to up their game and might’ve ripped us off.”
He nodded before gesturing to the bar and turning to the prospect. “Why don’t you go ahead and go on in and order us a couple of beers? Chat up the president of the Steel Heretics. He probably needs to be annoyed—and make sure he knows I sent ya.”
Connor let out a heavy sigh. “Yep.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as the kid trudged toward the bar, his shoulders slumped. “I swear, it never gets old bossing them around.”
“It really doesn’t,” Frankie agreed. “But seriously, what the hell happened with your shipment? Last I talked to you last week, you said the deal with the Deadheads was going well—what’s happened? We were supposed to be getting in on this next month. I don’t want in if it’s gonna be nothing but problems.”
