AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Thank you,” I said, sincerely. “That was really nice of you. If you give me your number, I can call you and arrange to give you your money back this afternoon. Like I said, today’s payday.”
Pinstripe just looked at me with his conceited, gray eyes. “Give you my number? You’re kidding me, right?”
I was taken aback but managed to hide it. “How else am I going to get you your money?”
He scoffed. “It’s twenty-three dollars. Hardly worth the irritation of having to give you my number.”
Okay, this guy was an absolute jerk.
But still, he had helped me out of a tight spot.
And just because I wanted to punch him in his egotistical mouth for the way he was talking to me, didn’t mean I should show it.
“Well, thanks again,” I said.
“I don’t need your thanks, lady. Just get out of my fucking way. I’ve got somewhere important to be, and you’ve already made me late.” He brushed past me abruptly, and I watched him stride across the parking lot and get into his Porsche. With a violent rev of the engine, he sped off into the morning.
Feeling the hot sting of humiliation, I climbed into my car and made a deal with myself that if I didn’t cry, I could blow ten dollars out of my paycheck on a big juicy bottle of wine tonight.
And maybe some ice cream. Not the cheap kind either. No, it was going to be the good stuff, thick and rich, and so damn sugary you could feel the calories thickening your waistline.
Feeling hopeless, I looked at the picture of Noah swinging from the rearview mirror and felt a renewed strength harden in my bones.
I refused to cry. And by the time I got to the clubhouse for my shift, I had found my resolve.
Because sometimes it was easier to do things when you were doing them for someone else.
It was a quiet day in the clubhouse with a lot of the Kings in town helping set up for the Fourth of July celebrations on the weekend, so it gave me a chance to get to know Red, the Kings of Mayhem cook, a little better.
Toward the end of my shift, he helped me carry stacks of glasses from the dishwasher in the kitchen and out to the bar, and as we stood drying them, he filled me in on how he came to be a part of the MC’s inner realm.
“The first time I met Bull, he put a gun in my face,” he said with an amused chuckle. “Damn near scared the skin right off my body…fuck!”
Red had Tourette’s, and despite his medication controlling it, his tick often peppered his conversation with curse words.
“I was running with a bad crowd. Really found myself at the bottom of the barrel hanging out with the pond scum. They were a rival MC. They stirred up some real shit with the Kings. Roughed up some girls. Stole something from Bull. I knew they didn’t see me as one of them. Didn’t treat me none too good neither. But I had nowhere else to go, so I stayed. You know, better the devil you know. Motherfucker!”
“What happened?” I asked.
“Bull came looking for payback. Rode right up to the door and stormed in. I was the first he saw. He put a gun to my head and told everyone he was going to start shooting unless the president gave him back what he stole.”
“And did he give Bull back what he stole?”
“Yeah. Bull can be an intimidating motherfucker.”
I could imagine. Every time he walked into a room, he dragged in a powerful energy with him.
“What was it?” I asked him.
“What was what?”
“What did Bull take back from your president?”
Red chuckled. “Oh, it was his dog.”
“A dog?”
“Yeah, his dog, Max. He fucking loved that girl. That’s one thing about Bull everyone knows. You don’t fuck with what he loves, or he’ll rain down some heavy shit on you. He was ready to start a war over that dog.”
I had already heard things about him.
That he was ruthless.
Hard.
Unforgiving.
But the more I heard about him from the people he spent time with, the more I realized he was passionate rather than cold-hearted.
Charming rather than cruel.
And sexy as fuck.
“How did you end up staying with him? Once he got his dog back, didn’t he take his gun out of your face?”
“He had me carry Max out to his car, and in a crazy, panicked moment, I begged him to take me with him.”
“Really? Why?”
“Like I said, they were a bad crowd. Fuck. Fuck. Real bottom feeders. It was only a matter of time before they killed me. I wasn’t one of them. They kept me ‘round to do the dirty shit no one else wanted to do. Clean toilets. Mop up puke. But they thought I was a joke. Treated me like I was entertainment. Laughed at me.”
