Skirt (Ruthless Kings MC #5) - K.L. Savage Page 0,36

curtain again.

“Knew that wouldn’t happen,” Reaper says, slapping his hand on my shoulder. “Unless it did, and that’s the quickest—”

“No, it didn’t fucking happen. I’m not a quick shot.” Hell, I hope I’m not. I don’t know.

Reaper steers me in the direction of Church and shuts the door. I hate being in a room alone with the Prez. Usually, people get punished, and I’m not trying to have him carve anything into my chest.

“I want you and Tongue to go to Circus, Circus. There’s another bag of money to get picked up.”

Shite. I really don’t want to go there. I can’t say no to the Prez, though. “Can I ask what the money is for?”

“Just security,” Reaper says.

I narrow my eyes at him and tilt my head. Security my arse. I don’t get to ask questions, though. I don’t have a position of authority. I’m just another member. “Aye, I’ll grab the crazy fuck and get on.”

“Actually, take Knives. I want Tongue to do something else for me.”

I walk out of the room and try to locate Knives. He’s sitting in the corner, practicing throwing his ninja stars at a can that is settled on top of Braveheart’s head. Poor bloke looks like he’s about to piss himself.

“Knives, we’re heading out. Come on.”

I must have distracted him because Knives doesn’t throw it perfect. The star hangs to the left.

“Ow! Fuck you, Knives!” Braveheart groans as he cups his ear. He brings his hand away, and I wince when I see blood in his palm and his ear split in half. Right down the fucking middle. “My ear!”

“Doc!” I shout and grab Knives by the cut. “Sorry, lad. We got to get going. Club business. Have Doc stitch ye up.”

“It isn’t even that bad!” Knives tries to defend himself. “He’s being a pussy.”

“Aye, but not everyone likes sharp objects being thrown at them, Knives.”

“He shouldn’t have offered.”

“Did he?”

“Yes.” Knives swings his leg over his bike and cranks it. “Okay, no.”

I bark out a laugh and start my engine, the loaner bike Tool is letting me use until I can find a replacement for mine. The rumbling vibrates between my legs, the sound nearly making me hard, and I peel out of the parking lot and press the button for the gate. I forgot to put on a shirt. Oh, well. Circus, Circus isn’t exactly the best establishment anyway. Free nipples and shit. That’s my opinion.

We’re roaring down the open lonely road, blazing toward the strip. I lay my hand on my knee and wish I wore my kilt. The jeans are too damn tight. How did I used to wear these all the time? My balls hate me right now.

I look out onto the beautiful desert horizon and notice all the cactuses pointing to the sky, and I feel betrayed. A low throb builds in my arse, reminding me how many of those damn needles got me.

I think about Dawn and all the what-ifs and could bes. If I give up fighting, I can be the man she needs, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. It’s an outlet for my pent-up anger. What if I don’t have it, and I take it out on her? Give her bruises? I’m starting not to trust myself, and I had no idea how much I didn’t until she spoke Cohen’s name.

Casinos and bars illuminate the strip and causes an aurora of lights to glow against the darkening sky as the sun sets. King’s Club is somewhere in there. Maye I’ll stop by there tonight to hear Tool’s ol’ lady sing a tune, and then I’ll grab a drink. I need to get my head lost in something, because right now it’s lost in everything.

We turn down the strip and Circus, Circus is there on the right. I don’t know what people see in this place. It’s a shit hole, and it has a creepy fucking clown smiling down at me from the sign. It’s nose lights up red and for second, I think about the movie IT. Pennywise is about to fucking eat me.

I roll into a parking spot and turn off the engine, staring at the entrance of the casino. I know Maximo is there and when he sees me, he’s going to ask me to fight, and I’m not going to be able to say no. Not today.

I’ve been out of the game too long, doing dirty business for the club. It’s time I jump in the fighting