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She pursed her lips. “Fuck you and your putting-everyone-else-first stubborn ass.” I started to laugh, the tears still streaming, and my nose beginning to run. Because if I wasn’t fucking sexy before, now this was one for the books. “You’re gonna have to ask Mitchell.”
I’d rather streak down Main Street.
But she was right.
I wasn’t waiting another day.
I was going to get this shit done tonight.
“I need to get to the drug store first thing in the morning, tonight if possible, in case they have to order one,” I whispered, holding Gem’s chocolate-colored eyes and letting them warm me through. “Maybe he’ll think of it as charity.”
“Or maybe you’ll have to suck his tiny dick,” she corrected with a dramatic eye roll. “Just remember what you’re doing it for.Whoyou’re doing it for.”
She swept her fingers through my hair, pulling it back from my face as we both looked at Kadey.
My reason for living.
For fighting.
For surviving.
She deserved more. She deserved better, and I was going to give it to her. No fucking matter what.
My stomach swirled and turned as I made my way back down the hall. Mitchell owned the strip club slash bar. If you needed to know what kind of bastard this man was, he was the kind who topped up half-full bottles of liquor with water and sold it at twice the price. He was also the kind who didn’t offer extra hours if you were struggling, instead offering himself like some kind of tribute and paying you by the hour.
I pressed my fingers to my lips, holding back that rush of saliva that floods your mouth when you know vomit is coming.
The asshole was weird, creepy, and in total control of every woman here.
He knew it.
We knew it.
And it made me sick.
Inhaling deeply through my nose, I pounded hard on his office door with my palm. The low rumble of voices inside paused for a second before I heard him call out, “Come in!”
With my tongue pinched between my teeth, I shoved the door open and forced myself to step inside. “Mitchell, I need to chat with you ab—” I froze, realizing there was more than one set of eyes on me.
“Missy!” Mitchell crowed happily, rubbing his hands together as he stepped around his desk. “This is Hawk, Exiled Eight MC Vice President. Hawk, this is one of my beautiful ladies, Missy.”
We eyed each other, that emerald green that I recognized from our brief encounter last week was almost warm and comforting, especially in this office, which I usually couldn’t step inside without feeling ill.
His mouth curled at the corner in a gentle smirk. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Okay, so we were doing that.
“You, too,” I answered through pursed lips, making a note of the three other men in the room wearing club colors.
“What can I help with?” Mitchell was quick to cut in, sitting back on his desk and spreading his legs like he already knew I needed something and indicating how he intended to make me pay for it.
The lump in my throat tickled my gag reflex and threatened to choke me, but I forced it down and sucked in a deep breath. “I know my shift is over, but I really need to earn a little extra by tomor—”
Mitchell’s face lit up, and his mouth opened, eager to bargain his way into a little something for himself, but before he could make an offer, someone beat him to it.
“I’ve got a party at the clubhouse next weekend,” Hawk announced, getting up from the sofa and taking a couple of steps toward me. He was bigger than I remembered, his shoulders broader, the atmosphere around him screaming strength and power. Something that would usually turn me off, but with this man, all I wanted to do was sink inside it. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a roll of bills. “I’d like to hire you.”
Mitchell’s head snapped to Hawk. “Oh, we’ve never… they don’t usually…”
