Austin - Piper Stone Page 0,41

smile. I’d spent a couple of nights trying to control myself before being tossed out for being underage.

I continued my path until I caught sight of Hawk and the others. An instant pang of regret and guilt slithered into my system, forcing me to stop momentarily. Fuck me. What the hell was I doing? I was scared of nothing. I powered on, moving to within a few inches of the table before Reaper noticed me.

“What. The. Fuck?” He jumped up from the table, a blank look on his face. “A sight for sore eyes. Jesus, man. Where ya been?”

“Vader?” Scorpion huffed, slowly rising to his feet. “We thought… Never mind. It doesn’t matter what we thought.”

“That I was dead?” I asked. Maybe I should be. I scowled, the damn thought like fingers clamping around my throat.

Hawk grinned, lifting his bottle of Budweiser. “I told you guys I had a secret.”

“You fucking asshole,” Mustang chided, the first one to move in my direction, a huge grin on his face. “You look like…”

“Shit?” I finished, finally cracking a huge grin.

“More like a brick shithouse, dude. What’s with the bald head?” Scorpion moved closer, taking his turn in giving me a quick hug.

The same uncomfortable feeling as before pooled into my system. Everything still felt awkward and I hated it.

“When did you get into town?” Reaper asked.

“A few days ago.” I walked closer to the table, noticing that Scorpion was already motioning for a waitress.

“And you didn’t call us? You’re a shithead.” Mustang laughed before yanking out one of the chairs and motioning to it.

“I had a few things to do.” I sat down, glaring up at the closest television. Whatever sports program was on couldn’t have interested me any less.

“Yeah, he did,” Hawk teased.

“What the fuck happened to your hand?” Scorpion growled.

I flexed it, pissed at myself I hadn’t removed the bandage. “Nothing. Just a little burn.”

“Just a little burn. Damn, brother. Nothing ever bothers you.” Reaper shook his head.

“Milly. Bring us another round and for my long-lost friend here, a brewski and a whiskey chaser,” Scorpion ordered, remembering what I used to drink all the time.

“Yes, sir,” Milly laughed, winking at the others.

Everyone finally sat down and there was a moment of silence, the kind that was agonizing as hell.

“Where ya staying?” Mustang finally asked.

I shrugged, tapping my fingers on the table then struggling to remove my jacket.

“Fuck. More tattoos as well. Plus, you’ve put on some weight,” Scorpion muttered.

“Been staying with Hawk, but that’s about to change.” I shoved the leather jacket over the back of the chair, glancing from side to side. “Nice place you got here, Scorp.”

“I’m happy with it. We’re making money. I’ll tell you that.” He laughed, lifting his bottle.

“What do you mean that’s about to change?” Hawk asked, leaning over.

I gave him a look, a smile curling on my lip. “I bought a house today.”

“What?” He jerked back in his seat. “I’m… impressed as hell. A Harley and a house in one day. When are you moving?”

“Taking possession tomorrow.”

“How the hell can that happen so fast? What about the closing?” Mustang piped in.

“Paid cash. Makes it easier.” My answer seemed to surprise the group of them, all four whistling.

Reaper shook his head. “Our boy has been holding out on us. What were you doing, some hustling all those months you disappeared?”

I turned my attention back to the television, noticing a bulletin from some local news channel scrolled across the bottom. Something about the fire. “I made investments years ago. Cashed a few of them in.”

“You old dog, you,” Hawk half choked after taking a sip of his beer. “Good for you. Where is the place?”

“Off Castle Rock Road.”

“The old Benson place?” he asked, his tone incredulous.

“Yeah. Ain’t much now but it’s gonna be.”

The four of them looked at each other, once again not saying anything as Milly brought the round of drinks, her eyes falling on me and staying. When she left, Scorpion leaned over. “She’s single, my friend, and I can tell she likes you. Milly is very picky.”

“I don’t need a girlfriend,” I snorted then grabbed the whiskey, chugging at least half.

Hawk chuckled and this time, I gave him a hard glare. He held up his hands in response.

“The same Vader. A man of few words but one hell of a drinker.” Mustang lifted his shot of tequila, tossing it back.

Sighing, I took a swig of beer, knowing that I was acting like some spiteful child. These were my buddies, men who’d been