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It was one of the little quirks that made Devil, Devil. They each had them, the brothers of the MC, and Piper filed them all away in her brain as a matter of course.
Ever since she’d started working here in the clubhouse bar, she’d made it a point to learn as much about each of the brothers as she could. The club president was Boomer, tall, older, bearded. He was currently stuck in a wheelchair as the consequence of a drive by shooting from a rival gang a few months earlier.
Then there was Griz, Boomer’s son, the big bearded sergeant at arms, and Wyatt, an adopted son of Boomer’s, and the club VP. Wyatt was the clever one, the one who people came to when a problem needed to be solved. Boomer was the coach, but Wyatt was the quarterback of this team.
Then Devil, the wild child who either could not or would not get her name right, always moving and always up to something that might or might not make everything in the immediate vicinity catch on fire. There were others, as well, and Piper did her best to memorize all of their names and personalities and favorite drinks. It was all a part of her job.
Including getting to know Pony as much as humanly possible. At least, that was what she told herself as an excuse to spend as much time with him as she could without it looking weird.
Devil wandered off to collect on his bet while Piper drew Pony’s beer out of the tap. She did her best not to glance out of the corner of her eye at how Pony’s muscles filled out his tight shirt.
“One hundred and eight pushups, hunh?” she said. “You didn’t want to make it an even hundred and ten?”
“Didn’t want to show off,” Pony said.
“Right. Wouldn’t want to do that. I guess they had you do a lot of pushups in the Rangers?”
“You remembered.”
“About your being in the Rangers? I did.”
“Yeah, well, shit can get really boring on deployment,” Pony said. “Like, painfully boring. So push-up contests were a pretty common way to pass the time.”
Piper was trying to come up with a sassy comment about better ways to pass the time when her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She checked it while sliding Pony his beer with her free hand.
It was her sister, Carly, texting her. She was the other thing that had been on Piper’s mind lately, constantly pushing in on her thoughts.
Carly, all of twenty years old and still in college. She’d never been in trouble a day in her life, until just before Piper got this job at the MC.
Then, Piper had gotten the news. Carly had been arrested at school, at an off-campus party.
Piper hadn’t been able to believe her ears. Perfect little Carly, never ever so much as had detention once in high school Carly, wouldn’t know how to commit a crime even if she wanted to Carly? Caught not only with fentanyl pills, but so many fentanyl pills that she was being hit with a felony charge?
It didn’t make any sense. Carly, for her part, swore up and down that the pills weren’t hers, and that she had no idea where they had come from. But the arresting officer had been clear in his report. He’d found the pills on Carly while busting the party.
It was a disaster in the making. The kind of thing that could derail a young woman’s life and put her on the wrong track on a permanent basis.
Now she was out on bail and staying at Piper’s place as a condition of her release. Every day, Piper bounced back and forth between trying to figure out how her sister had screwed upso hard while also trying to sort out how she could get her out of it.
For now, though, she had to keep her mind on what she was doing. So she texted backbe home a little late tonightand tucked her phone back into her pocket.
“Something important?” Pony asked.
Piper shook her head. “Just my sister. She’s, uh, home from college.”
It was close enough to the truth. Piper didn’t want to get into the details of her sister’s arrest or bail or any other part of it.
“So your sister is a college girl, hunh?”
“That’s right. I was, too, you know.”
Pony seemed surprised. “Really? What did you study?”
“Guess.”
“Ah, shit,” he said, furrowing his brow. “Um… Religious studies.”
“Very funny.”
