“UFL turned you into a straight-up *, big brother.” He leans forward and tucks a twenty-dollar bill in the cleavage of the dancer, letting his fingers linger a little too long against her breasts before leaning back. “You always used to be down for whatever . . .” He grabs the shot, throwing it back and slamming it down hard. “Now you’re a big ole nerd.” His shoulders bounce as he laughs silently and pulls more money from his pocket.
“It’s called having a job, Drake. Some would consider that an accomplishment.” He wants to piss me off, get me worked up so he can see a glimmer of the old kid I used to be. The scruffy surf kid who would throw a punch if someone simply looked at my little brother wrong.
“Accomplishment.” He says the word like he’s testing it in his mouth and doesn’t like the taste. “Abandoning The Brotherhood is your biggest accomplishment.”
My blood fires and I ball my fists. “You’ve managed to drag every single one of our friends into whatever the fuck it is you’re working with your dad, and you think I’m the bad guy? Look at you? You’re fuckin’ spun out at twenty-one.” Such a fucking waste of potential.
The waitress returns with our drinks and just in time. I have to keep my cool. I have to.
“Dude, isn’t that the chick from Saturday night?” Harrison scrubs a hand over his head, squinting.
What? My head jerks to a small side stage where Angel is swiveling her hips and dropping articles of clothing piece by piece. I breathe through the throbbing in my chest. There was a tiny part of me that thought he was talking about Trix.
They work together. If Angel’s here, I’m assuming Trix should be around here too.
“That bitch owes me a private lap dance after the way she and her little blond friend bolted on Saturday.” Drake stands up and waves her over. “We’ve got a paid hour from Saturday night to make up for, boys.”
At seeing Drake, Angel’s face registers surprise before she nods in recognition and holds up a finger.
“What about Jess?” Fuck, my shoulders are up to my ears and my muscles so tense they feel like they’re going to snap.
“Put her on a plane back to Santa Snooze yesterday.” He flicks another look around the room. “Vegas ain’t her thing.”
I don’t know whether to feel good or bad that he sent Jess home. There’s no way the guy is faithful. At least with her gone, he can’t fuck someone else right under her nose. That poor girl had no clue what she was getting herself into with my brother.
He fidgets in his seat before tucking more money into a stripper’s G-string.
Birdman leans in, looking not all that different from Drake with bloodshot eyes. “That guy got beef?” He jerks his head toward a table of dudes who all seem to be minding their own business.
Jayden and Harrison puff out their chests, drilling holes into a harmless-looking guy with their glares. “That dude?”
Drake pulls up his tee to reveal a gun shoved in his waistband.
I punch his shoulder, catching him off guard and sending him back in his chair. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t bring that shit in here!”
“Dude’s got problems, giving us looks like—”
“You can’t shoot someone for looking at you, dickhead!” I motion to the table of guys. “You’re all fucked up on whatever and seein’ shit that ain’t there.”
“Nah, man . . . dude was staring.” Charbroil flexes his fists, looking for a fight.
Harrison moves to stand. I grab his bicep and sit him back down just as he jerks free from my hold. “That’s it. Come clean right fuckin’ now. What the hell is going on with you guys?”
Paranoid. Sketchy. Clearly not sleeping.
“Nothin’, man. Just been partying.” Birdman wipes his nose almost as if subconsciously.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” Drake tilts his head, his eyes flicking over to the men at the table and back to me. “We’re dropping off some product and then we’ll be out—”
“What’s left of it.” Harrison dissolves into a fit of laughter.
Drake aims a glare at him that shuts him right up.
“Hold on.” My blood runs cold and my heart pounds heavy in my chest. “So you’re dipping into the product you’re here to deliver?”
“Shoulda’ kept your mouth shut.” Jayden shakes his head at his brother.
I lean into my brother. “Do you have a death wish? You think whoever you’re dealing to is going to be okay with you using his shit?”
“Why the hell do you care? It’s not like dude’s gonna show up with a scale!”
“I care because the last thing I need is to call Mom and tell her your ass got dead over . . . You know what? Forget it. I’m fuckin’ outta here.” I push to stand, but Drake grips my forearm.
“Run away, college boy.” His eyes are glossed over, wired and wide, his mouth curves into an unfriendly smirk. “Jess was right. You’re a fucking *. No wonder she swallowed my dick instead of yours.”