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I hear murmuring in the background, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.
“I need you to check the cameras from the bar for me from last night.”
“What’s going on?” His voice is clearer now, and I hear him moving around.
“I don’t know yet. I’ll fill you in when you get to the security room. I’ll meet you there.”
I hang up and slide off the barstool before making my way upstairs. My head is still spinning, but at least the urge to puke has passed—for now, at least.
The door to the security room is still locked, so I lean against the wall with my eyes closed, waiting for Wizz. My mind drifts to Scooter leaving with the redhead, who basically told me to fuck off last night, and I find myself scowling. She chose a fucking prospect over me?
The longer I stand there, the more pissed off I feel. I know it’s irrational, but something about the woman drew me in. I’m not used to women turning me down.
Shit, I sound like a conceited asshole.
I hear the heavy thud of boots behind me, so I turn. Wizz hits the top of the stairs with a scowl on his face. Kaz is right behind him.
“You look like shit,” Kaz states, his eyes moving over me. “Anyone I know?”
I frown in confusion, my eyes dropping to my chest, which is when I notice smeared lipstick on my stomach and ribs. “Yeah, that’s the problem.”
Wizz unlocks the door, and I follow him in, Kaz bringing up the rear.
I all but collapse onto the sofa in the corner as Kaz locks the door.
“Tell me what’s going on and what I’m looking for.”
“I don’t know. I woke up still fucked up from last night to find Tiny in my bed.”
Wizz looks at me and frowns, but he doesn’t say anything.
“I went downstairs to find out what the fuck happened and found Spoons behind the bar, which, by the way, he manned all night with Peep after Scooter fucked off.”
Kaz growls. “That fucker is already on his last strike. Any idea where he went?”
“Off with some chick that came to party.”
“Right. Okay, how far back do you want me to go, and what am I looking for?”
Wizz nods, and a few minutes later, the screen in front of him is showing the prospects setting up for the party. He speeds up the footage, and we watch as the events of last night unfold.
When I see myself onscreen turn toward the bar and spot the redhead, I lean forward.
“Play that for a minute.”
I watch the woman who I belatedly realize is the same woman who caught my eye at the gas station.
She’s all over Scooter, ignoring everyone else around her. Or at least that’s what I assume until I notice her watching everyone else in the mirrors. She sees me approach and scowls before whipping it clear from her face.
“Who is she?”
“The bitch Scooter left with. She gave me some bullshit line about not being there to ride biker cock, then left with Scooter anyway.”
“Maybe you’re just not her type,” Kaz says with a smirk.
“Fuck you. I’m everyone’s type. Just ask Mercy.”
“Unless you want to spend the next few weeks in the ICU, I suggest you keep my woman’s name off your lips,” Kaz snarls at me, the tone grating on my already pounding head.
