Kansas (Ruthless Kings MC Atlantic City #2) - K.L. Savage Page 0,61

my thigh from his slit.

“Yeah?” I ask hopefully.

“Yeah, Springs. You’ve got me all twisted up.”

“I’m falling in love with you too.”

“You scared?” he questions.

“Only for you to realize that you don’t,” I admit.

He cups my jaw and brings his lips to mine. “There’s not a chance in hell of that.”

I’m going to show him Kansas isn’t who he is, it’s just a state of mind.

It’s been three weeks of absolute fucking bliss.

The guy who wants his drugs hasn’t been around yet, so we consider that a big fucking blessing. Right now, the only mess we are dealing with is Wolf.

There’s a positive and a negative to him right now.

Positive, he has officially stopped the drunken bender. The negative? He has completely mentally checked out. He hasn’t said a word in over two weeks.

Prez is still saying to give Wolf space, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing right now. I think he wants to be alone, but he doesn’t need to be. I plan on talking to him today at some point. I don’t like my friend being like this. I know he is grieving; god forbid anything happen to Violet. I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t even want to think about it.

But the darker mood Wolf gets in, the more worried about him I become.

Wolf and I go way back to when we were in the old chapter together. I’m not as close to him like I am One-Eye or Arrow, but I still care. He took care of the girls Venom kidnapped the best he could. I know he blames himself somehow for Abigale’s death. We all have horrors from that chapter that we want to forget but will never be able to.

Whatever happened in that basement, whatever love story bloomed between Abigale and Wolf, it’s changed him for life.

“Hey asshole. You didn’t fucking take me to bingo. I missed seeing Elise.” Homer kicks me in the leg while I’m changing the tire to an old Bobber. It’s sick. If the guy that owned this took better care of the body, this motorcycle would be a beauty.

“I have other things going on in my life, Homer. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, yeah. I know. You and Violet are so in love, Blah, blah. It was jackpot night, fucker. I could have won the five hundred bucks that you stole the last time.”

“Hey, I won that fair and square. I had bingo. Twice! You’re just jealous.”

“I still think you cheated,” he gripes.

“God, you’re a senile old shit.” I tighten the bolts to the tire. Arrow chuckles from the spot next to me as he changes out a fuel tank.

“What the fuck are you laughing at, Arrowhead?” Homer strolls over to Arrow and slaps him on the back of the head. “Didn’t your mommy and daddy ever tell you to respect your elders?”

“I didn’t realize elders meant dinosaurs, Homer. I am soooo sorry,” Arrow says sarcastically.

“You young bucks don’t know the meaning of respect.” Homer pulls out a plastic bag and grabs a blunt.

“Homer, you can’t smoke in here,” I say for the hundredth time.

“It’s for my damn headaches. Back off, Kansas.” He ignores me and lights it up anyway, blowing the thick cloud of smoke in the air. “You’re taking me next Friday,” he points at me, the weed burning bright at the very end of the joint.

“Homer, the snow is starting to melt. Spring is around the corner. King’s City Motorcycle Custom Repair and Body Shop is going to be getting busier. Over winter there wasn’t much work, but now it’s picking up. You might have to find someone else to take you.”

“I’ll take you, Homer,” Arrow suggests.

“Ah, don’t want you to. You smell funky.”

“I do not smell funky. Kansas, tell him I don’t smell funky.”

I exhale and chuckle, tightening the last bolt on the tire. I throw the socket-wrench to the ground with a loud clatter. “You don’t smell funky, Arrow. Homer, be nice.”

“Kansas. I want you to take me. Please,” Homer begs.

It isn’t like Homer to beg.

“Fine, I’ll take you. Only cause I don’t have the heart to turn an old person down,” I state.

“Good. I got to get it where I still can, right?” He puffs on his joint and Arrow holds out his hand. “The hell do you want, Arrowhead?”

“Give me a hit. Don’t be greedy.”

“Boy, don’t be stupid. You know my rule. I do not puff, puff, pass. Get your own shit.”

“Your bones are always going to be brittle old man, no