Addictive (Houston Defiance MC #2) - K.E. Osborn Page 0,20
my eyebrow, impressed with his deliberate action.
“That’s the entire point.” He slams his large tattooed hand on the counter. “Bartender, another two shots, please. Keep ‘em comin’.”
The biker doesn’t say anything.
I don’t say anything.
The bartender slides our drinks over, we grab them, and the biker slams the shot glass to mine, making some of the clear liquid spill as he lifts it into the air. “Cheers,” he calls out, then swallows the whole thing faster than I can even react.
Maybe he’s more fucked-up than I am?
“You all right, man?”
He laughs, a harrowing, big, fat, belly laugh. “Am I all right? Am I all right! Pfft, that’s a loaded fuckin’ question. Bartender, give us the bottle. We’re gonna need it!” he yells.
I like this guy, he’s my kind of person.
“You look like the type of man who understands women…” I scrunch up my face.
“Not real—”
The biker doesn’t wait for me to fully answer before he starts again, “They’re intoxicating, right? They make you fall for them. They make you love them. Then fuckin’ bam!” He slams his fist on the bar loudly, making everyone turn to look at us. “They snap you in half like a fuckin’ twig.”
I raise my brow. “Sounds intense.”
He groans, running his hand through his long wavy hair. “She’s a fucking bitch.”
“They all fucking are.”
He nods emphatically. “Right? Fuck! See… you get me. A total damn stranger, why can’t Neon?”
“Neon?”
“My best friend. Fuck! My best man… or was going to be…”
For the first time, I see his eyes twinkle as this tough façade he’s putting on might just crack. Then in an instant, the wall comes back as he shakes his head.
“You were getting married?” I ask.
“To my best friend’s sister. Yeah, what a stupid idea that was. Now, I’m down a woman, and my best friend is siding with his sister over me.”
“Mmm… that’s tough, man.”
Maybe my life isn’t so fucked up. No, it so is.
“She cheated, the night before the fucking wedding.”
My eyes widen. “Shit! Well, that’s jacked.”
The biker picks up the tequila, tips it up, and takes it straight from the bottle.
“When did this happen?”
He swipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Two days ago.”
Well, fuck.
“I can always strangle her for you if you want?” I half-joke, half-think I might enjoy that experience.
The biker turns to me, raising his brow. He looks me over, taking in my tattoos. I don’t think he even knew who I was a second ago, but something in what I’ve just said has now piqued the biker’s interest. “You say that shit to everyone or just bikers?”
I shrug. “I don’t say that shit to any-fucking-one.”
He narrows his eyes on me. “But you’d do it, wouldn’t you? If I paid you, you’d take her out?”
Excitement bubbles up inside of me.
Could I do this?
Is that what I’m supposed to be doing with my life? Contract killing? Maybe this is who I’m supposed to be.
I glance around the room, trying to gauge if anyone is listening. “For a price, I guess we could arrange something.”
The biker shakes his head, letting out a small laugh. “You have a lot to learn if you wanna make this a gig, brother.”
I jerk my head back. “What?”
He slaps my shoulder. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”
“No.”
He chuckles. “Good because I’m not serious. I was trying to see where your head is at. You look the type who needs a place to land his feet.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” My brows crease as I stare him down.
“It means I’ve seen your kind before. A wandering soul who’s lost in the world, needing a place to lay his boots, a place to let his demons run free.”
I sit back. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re trying to sell me, but I’m not buying. Not with the way you’ve been crying into that bottle tonight.”
He shrugs. “My love life has nothing to do with the club. I don’t know anything about you, not even your name, but I know Defiance material when I see it.”
I scoff. “You think I should join an MC?”
“I think you should at least come check it out… see what we have to offer.”
I stand, grabbing my leather jacket. “You can’t offer me shit! You won’t even be able to ride home you’re that wasted.”
The biker chuckles. “Maybe… maybe not. Whatever! You obviously know where the clubhouse is located, seeing as you knew my cut when I walked in. Come by, tell Gatekeeper Zero sent you. I’ll show you around.”