“Yeah,” he grumbles. “He’ll behave. He recognized Mallory from that video, so I think he was a little star struck.”
“He’s not the first.” I clap him on the back. “You’re a good guy for looking out for the kid.”
He glances back at the bar where the kid’s staring straight ahead, sipping on a bottle of soda. “He’ll be an asset to the club. A good leader one day. If he learns to keep his damn dick in his pants.”
“Won’t we all,” I mutter, making Grinder laugh.
Even though we’re laughing it up, I wonder what Grinder has in mind for the future of his club. Their current president, Ruger, keeps pushing them into riskier business deals and I imagine it’s causing a lot of friction with their members. Ruger sent his SAA out here with only a few of his men. While our clubs get along, it sends a lukewarm message at a time we’ve been working to bring most of the outlaw clubs in the area together.
With the way law enforcement’s been cracking down on motorcycle clubs lately, it’s in all our interests to stay under the radar. A message not every outlaw accepts. Tonight’s a test of sorts and I guess we’ll see who passes.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Mallory
I emerge from the kitchen and find the chapel doors firmly closed and the clubhouse mostly empty. My gaze lands on the flirty young biker sitting at the bar all by himself.
“So, Rock.” I sneak up behind him.
Either he heard me coming or he doesn’t startle easily. He turns and stares at me with a raised eyebrow, patiently waiting for me to continue.
“You said you recognized me from ‘Candy Jar’. How’d you not know I was with Chaser? Stories about us have been on MTV, in every music magazine, and tabloid for months now.”
He snorts and shakes his head. “You think going to school and working for the club leaves me time for shit like sittin’ around watching MTV and flipping through gossip rags? Please. I caught the video while I was manning the door at our strip club.”
Feeling foolish, I blurt out the only question that comes to mind. “Aren’t you a little young to be hanging out at a strip club?”
He shrugs and takes a swig of soda.
I tilt my head toward the chapel. “Why’d you get kicked out?”
“Never got invited in.” He taps his plain black leather cut. “Not a patched member.” He nods to one of the other prospects who came with the Lost Kings. “Not even a prospect yet. Grinder lets me be involved more than a regular prospect, but not today,” he says, pride coloring his words. From the information I’ve gathered about the MC world, unless his father’s a member, allowing him to be so involved at such a young age is unusual.
“Is your dad a member of the club too?”
“Nah, he’s a useless drunk since my mom died.”
My heart breaks at the matter-of-fact way he states such a tragic situation. While he came on strong at first, he doesn’t seem to hold a grudge over me shutting him down. Now that he’s not trying to impress me, he’s actually kind and easy to talk to. “My mom died when I was a kid too,” I say softly.
“Sorry.” He stares at me with calm gray eyes for a few seconds. “Your father treat you okay?”
“More or less.” I snort out a laugh. “He’s in prison at the moment.”
He doesn’t even blink. “Got any other family?”
“Just Chaser. And the family he’s given me.”
“Sometimes it’s not about the blood you share. It’s about finding the ones willing to bleed for you.”
Wow, such a painful lesson to have already learned at his age.
For a moment I’m speechless. “Some days I barely even remember what my mother looked like.”
He nods slowly like he understands how hard it is to hold on to precious memories. He slides his hand in his pocket and pulls out his wallet. It takes a few seconds to find what he wants—a small picture of a beautiful young woman with long, shiny brown hair holding a little boy while they both smile at the camera.
“Is that you and your mom?”
The corners of his mouth lift. “Yeah.” He slips the photo back in his wallet and tucks it away. “I like to keep her with me.”
“I don’t blame you. I managed to keep some photos of my mom too.” When I stole money from my dad and ran away to California but that’s hardly a story to