another night of auditing books at The Boulevard that just don’t quite add up I head back to the clubhouse to lose myself in a fucking large bottle of Jack. It’s crowded and rowdy as hell for the night which grates on my fucking nerves.
I slump down at the end of the bar, ignoring everyone so they’ll get the fucking picture not to bother speaking to me, and I jerk my head at Monroe behind the bar so she’ll come serve me a drink. I fucking hate the bitch but if she’s on then there’s no way out of talking to her.
“If it isn’t the prodigal son. Fucked any good strippers lately? I heard there’s a newbie down there that has the boys panting after her.”
My teeth start aching from all the grinding I’m doing. “Leave the fucking bottle.”
She huffs. “You’ll never move outta the clubhouse if you keep wasting your cut from the runs on whiskey and titties.”
I drink from the bottle and then look around until I catch Diesel’s eye. “If you don’t come put a leash on her I’m going to throw her the fuck out. Simple as that.”
It kills him to hear me talk like that. Kills him because there’s sweet fuck all he could do to stop me. I’m higher up the fucking food chain and it’s got nothing to do with my blood.
There isn’t a piece of tech used in the club that I haven’t ordered, programmed, and set up. D’s still fucking pissy that I went off to college and still managed to come home and patch in before him.
I’ve got a brain and he’s nothing but a glorified grease monkey, working in the garage and thinking he’s hot shit for the patch on his back.
He’s all the shitty things Rue isn’t, with his head for money and blood and strategy.
“Monroe, get your nose outta club business. Serve the fucking drinks and move on, that’s all you gotta do,” he snarls at her, but she shrugs at him like he’s fucking nothing to her.
Exactly why I don’t need a woman.
They’re all bad fucking news.
The door to the bar swings open and in walks Trink looking like a fucking porn star wannabe in shorts so cutoff I can see her fucking underwear.
One of the Bay guys whistles and immediately gets punched in the gut because ain’t another biker here who doesn’t know who the fuck my baby sister is.
Godammit.
“What the fuck are you looking so sour for? STI check come back with bad news?” she laughs, grabbing my bottle and pouring herself a shot in the glass I’ve forgotten about.
“What the hell are you doing here? It’s a school night, go the fuck to bed.”
She laughs again and kicks at me under the table. “We can’t all be the genius of the family. I’ve been over watching Poe rebuild some engine, Thorn just came and bitched Pops out and dragged her home. She has the new Vanth Falling EP though and we got to listen to the whole thing twice through. Fuck knows how the hell she got it, that shit isn’t out for another month. It’s good shit though, Morrison could fucking get it.”
I know what it is and there’s no fucking way.
I’m not all fucking holier-than-thou about my little sister’s sex life but she’s seventeen and makes the fucking worst decisions. She lives by the seat of her pants and enjoys nothing more than pissing me and Hawk the fuck off.
If there’s a bad choice to be made, Trink’s gonna skip off into the sunset with it like a cheery fucking delight.
For a biker, I’m much more cautious than she is.
She got the full Callaghan bloodlines of reckless, raunchy, and fucking rowdy and I’ll be in an early grave because of it. She’s my responsibility until she’s locked down by some other asshole but I’ll be damned if it’s not going to be someone I approve of.
She grins at the glare in my eyes and tilts her head at the front door, “Hawk wants to talk to you. He’s out there with your Prez.”
Fucking brat.
I take the bottle with me because there’s no way I’m leaving her with that shit and I head out of the clubhouse, taking the stairs three at a time until I’m standing over in the trees with my blood.
I’m careful to make sure it’s not the same trees I stood near with Luis.
Can’t be too careful.
Rue kicks at the rocks with his boot, a scowl on his