get the money before he finds another buyer for the car is my only priority now.
“I guess,” I reply and reach in the cabinet for a stack of ceramic bowls.
Dad passes out bottles of beer, and the guys all sit around the big kitchen table. Dad bumps into me as I move to the sink.
I glance at his chest. “What’s all over your shirt?”
He glances down and brushes a hand over it. “Dirt and sawdust, I guess. Me and a couple of the boys were trying to pull that old stump out behind the clubhouse. Finally got it out, then we cut it up for firewood.”
I make a face. “Go change.”
He runs a hand under the collar of his t-shirt. “This shit does itch.”
I watch as he heads up to his room, then I turn to the stove and dish up the chili. I hear the shower turn on and smile. This works right into my plan.
“Lola, you know what’s worse than pullin’ stumps?” Wildman scoops a spoonful into his mouth, then grins at me around the mouthful. “Your chili.”
The other boys all chuckle, and I roll my eyes, turning away.
“Aw, come on, don’t let him get to you, Lola. I’m sure there’s something you do well, even if your cooking sucks,” T-bone teases.
I don’t even crack a smile as I try to ignore them and clean the dishes I dirtied.
“Come on, Ice Queen, he was only teasing you. It’s not that bad. I’ve had worse,” Baja says.
I should be used to their teasing by now. But for some reason the jab about my cooking really hits home. Maybe because my mother never got to teach me before she died. A heavy weight settles in my chest at the reminder and I scrub the fry pan harder, the hot water turning my hands red.
Fifteen minutes later, Rock’s back with a wet head and clean clothes. I’m only hoping he left his wallet upstairs.
I hang out a few minutes, spooning up refills, then slip away and quietly creep upstairs, praying the wood risers don’t creak under my feet.
I hear cards shuffle and know they’re starting a poker game.
I enter my father’s bedroom, close the door, then flip on the light and tip toe around the room. There’s a low dresser with a mirror, two nightstands, a highboy chest of drawers, and a chair in the corner where my father always hangs his cut when he’s not wearing it. It’s there now.
I glance around the room, searching for his leather wallet, but don’t see it anywhere. I move through to the master bath and find a pile of clothes on the floor. I grab up his jeans and find it still in the back pocket, the chain still attaching it to the belt loop.
I pull it free and thumb through the bills, counting them up. God bless him, Dad’s always got a good stack on him.
I see four hundred-dollar bills and a half dozen twenties. I snatch the hundreds and leave the twenties, then return the wallet to the floor.
Katie isn’t planning to leave until tomorrow, but I’m sure I can convince her to head out tonight. I need to get out of town before my father finds the missing money and Darko realizes there’s no deposit made into his account.
I’ll have a lot of explaining to do when I get back, but right now, I’ve got to try to get my money from Trez. And if I know my brother, I don’t have a minute to lose.
CHAPTER FIVE
Rock—
I storm into the clubhouse at half past ten in the morning. There’s no one to be found in the main room, but a bunch of empty beer bottles and cups prove there was a party here last night after the poker game broke up. With single-minded purpose, I push through the swinging door that leads to the private bedrooms that many of the Royal Bastards use.
I try the first door, and it swings open. It’s dim inside, but there’s a bed with two bodies in it. Night Train, our Road Captain, bolts upright as the woman next to him covers herself.
He reaches toward the nightstand for his gun, but stops when he realizes it’s me. “What the fuck, Rock?”
“Where is she?” I boom.
“Who?”
“Lola.”
“Your daughter? Not here, for Christ’s sake.”
I glance to the brunette in his bed and stalk out. I slam down the hall, throwing unlocked doors open and pounding on those that are. Heads start poking out. “So help me, if I