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CHAPTER ONE
Detroit
“Time to get up, Casanova,” I said, kicking his foot with the tip of my shoe. “You gotta get back to your place,” I added, voice rising. I stood over the couch where Rook’s body was mostly covered by the body of a blonde, naked save for a pair of red panties that weren’t covering much of her ass. Sighing, I pulled out the big guns. “Nancy Bird is looking for you!”
Rook bolted upright so fast that he nearly sent the blonde flying over the back of the couch before he had the presence of mind enough to grab her.
“The fuck, man?” he grumbled, bleary eyes rapidly blinking in my direction.
“I gotta drop your ass back at your place before the gym,” I reminded him.
It wasn’t often he was allowed to spend a night at the clubhouse. His parole officer, the notorious—and all-around-loathed—Nancy Bird, was constantly on his ass, monitoring every other move of his. Especially since she finally approved his request to move to an apartment in Shady Valley, and “work” at Nyx’s karate place.
She watched him with the kind of attention to detail that made you wonder if the woman had any life outside of work. Because Rook was just one of many of her ex-cons that she was keeping an eye on. And she was constantly up his ass.
The only reason he was allowed to stay last night was because Nancy had done a surprise visit not once, but two days in a row, and no one figured she would be obsessive enough to try to do a third day in a row. And I’d also promised to get him home before I went to the gym. Which everyone knew was at the crack of dawn.
“Shit. Right. Right,” he said, rubbing his eyes with one hand while his other absentmindedly massaged the ass cheek of the blonde who’d settled back over him. “Ah…” he started, shooting the side of the woman’s head a guilty look.
He didn’t remember her name.
“Lani,” I said in the quietest voice I could muster. I mean, yeah, most of the club girls knew what they were getting into with the guys. A no-strings fuck. But it had to be a bit dehumanizing to realize a man didn’t remember your name after you were intimate.
“Listen, Lani, honey,” he said as she grumbled at being spoken to so early. “I have to get home,” he told her as he slowly started to slide out from under her body. “You can just hang here,” he told her, but she was already snuggling into the throw pillow, not caring that he was gone. Beside, maybe, for his warmth.
Rook was considerate enough to grab the blanket off the back of the couch and drape it over her before doing a long stretch, then patting his hands to his stomach.
“Right. Clothes. Where are my clothes?” he said, looking around the living room that was littered with quite a few articles of clothing. Enough of them, in fact, that some had to belong to other brothers and girls than him and Lani.
I waited as he fumbled around, finding a tee and his jeans. He stumbled as he tried to get his feet into his shoes while still half-drunk from the party the night before that had gone well into the morning.
“Made you coffee,” I told him, holding out the travel mug when he finally located all his things.
“No shit,” he said, surprise and a hint of joy teasing his features.
After his time in prison, he was still getting accustomed to people being halfway decent, and doing things without something being expected in return.
“Listen, you leave her pretty ass alone,” he said, pointing a finger and a stern look at the club cat who was looking at the blonde from his position standing on the coffee table.
Our club cat was known for loving men and hating everything to do with women, often swatting at them for no other infraction than walking near him.
“Thanks, man,” he said, taking the coffee from me as I chugged some of my pre-workout. I didn’t usually need it, but the party was loud and long, and I hadn’t slept well. I needed the boost. “What time is it?”
“Five-forty-five,” I told him as we moved outside. Right into the dark of night still. With fall upon us, the sun slumbered till six-thirty in the morning. “What?” I asked, feeling his gaze on my profile.
“Why do you get up this early?” he asked. “The gym is open all day, you know. And most of the night.”
“It’s less crowded this early,” I told him.
“Crowded? In Shady Valley?” he asked with a dubious raised brow.
That was fair. It was a small town. Sure, it had been growing after a long hiatus since the prison brought work and business back to the area after the warehouse we now called home had shuttered a long time back. But it was still a little nowhere town just on this side of Death Valley.
“Chilly,” Rook murmured to his coffee as we got into the SUV.
October was coming on hard and fast.
It was something I liked about this part of California. We still got all the seasons. Spring was warm, summer hot, autumn chilly, and winter actually cold. Not ‘why the hell do I even live here’ cold, but cold enough that Christmas feels like Christmas, and you’re glad when spring comes back around.
