Dark Guardian (Black Hoods MC #3) - Avelyn Paige Page 0,18
check my email one last time before I gather up Aaron’s folder, along with the one the courier had dropped off to me between meetings to peruse later tonight at home before leaving my office.
The sun’s still beaming down with a Texas level heat, even this late in the day. Opening my car door, the interior heat flows out, feeling like a sauna. Normally, this late in the summer, things would start evening out temperature-wise, but Mother Nature seems hell-bent on making it stay miserably hot as long as she can. I should’ve known that little temperature break over the last few days would come back to bite me again.
I let the heat sift out before braving the scorcher still raging inside and crank the air the second the engine turns on. With my work ahead of me, and the thought of possibly sleeping later, I leave the parking lot when a large group of motorcycles swerve into the lane I was about to pull into without so much as even a wave of apology.
“What in the hell?” I mutter when one biker waves after he passes. I try to see a plate number to report them for cutting me off when my eyes spy the back of their vests.
They’re not just any group of bikers. They’re Black Hoods.
“Don’t do it, Grace,” I berate myself when the thought of following them pops into my head. “Aaron said they’re dangerous. Following them isn’t a smart move.”
My heart beats wildly in my chest while my mind plays devil’s advocate of toeing the dangerous line of inserting myself into their line of sight without a police escort. I could either be walking into my doom, or become the guiding light to helping these kids. Do I put my life on the line for them?
The light flicks to green. They take off, and so do I, right behind them.
This is either the bravest thing I’ve ever done or the stupidest. I’m leaning toward the latter.
Judge
“You fuckers,” I groan, but I can’t hide my grin. “I’m a little old for a surprise party, don’t you think?”
“You’re too old for most things,” Twat Knot quips. I nod to Karma, who lands a swift swat to the back of his head. “Don’t worry, old man. Us young bucks will make sure the ladies don’t give that old ticker of yours palpitations.”
A gorgeous blonde with fake tits strides up to me and hands me a beer. “Happy birthday, handsome.” Ladies love a silver fox, and at fifty, there’s more silver in my beard than there ever has been.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” She plants a kiss on my cheek, pressing her tits against my arm as she does it, then struts back into the crowd. I watch her go before turning to face the others.
“Now, who do I have to thank for this shindig?” Everyone looks away, avoiding eye contact at all costs. “Come on, ya bunch of bastards. Nobody knew shit about my birthday. Who was it?”
I narrow my eyes at Hashtag. Motherfucker.
He glowers back at me, and then finally throws his hands up in the air. “I had to enter your birthday when I did the paperwork for the kids. I thought it would be nice, okay? So drink your beer and enjoy the love, for fuck’s sake.”
I glare at him a moment longer. It’s not that I’m upset, exactly. I just don’t quite know what to do here. I’ve never had a surprise for anything. Hell, I’ve never had a birthday party. “Thanks, kid.”
Nodding, he clinks his bottle against mine.
Taking a seat, I stroke my beard. “Fifty fucking years old, GP,” I say. “That’s half a fucking century.”
Numbers had never bothered me before. But then, I’d never turned fifty years old before today, either. I motion for the waitress to bring another round before turning to watch the girls on the dance floor.
They’re all so fucking young. I could be their damn grandfather. That shit is truly depressing.
“Cheer up, old man,” Hashtag chuckles, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Your present will be here soon.”
I love my club, and they know I’ve been struggling. First with Natalie and Kevin, becoming an instant dad to two damaged teenagers. And second, that I’m almost old enough to collect a fucking pension—if I had one.
That’s why they’d suggested a new venue. They’d brought me to Sharkey’s. This bar is perfect for a guy like me, or so they’d said. It had been once, about fifteen years ago, but now I feel