I pulled open the door to see three guys in the office with Mad Dog, all recently full patched members of the Inferno MC.
"Hey, Veep," The large one, Mud, nodded at me, all muscle and tattoos, including his head. The other two, Tink and Fats, stood with their arms crossed over their chests. Positioned beside each other, they looked like something out of a goddamned children's book. What was it, that nursery rhyme about the skinny dude and the fat wife? That's what the hell the two of them looked like together, Tink all wiry muscle and Fats...well, you know.
I didn't like any of them, to be honest. It was just something about them. Nothing I could put my finger on, no tangible reason to dislike them. I just didn't like the look of them. They had been prospecting for a while, and when the vote came up, my instinct was to vote "no." But hell, I had no reason to do it.
Now I was thinking what really was off was the way Mad Dog had taken a personal interest in the three of them. Shit like this, walking in on the three of them meeting with Mad Dog? It could be nothing, something completely innocent and meaningless, a tasking that Mad Dog needed done. But it could also mean a lot more than that.
And my gut said something was up, and it was nothing good.
"Blaze," Mad Dog said. "I was wondering if I was going to see you tonight." It was a subtle dig at how I'd been spending more time with Dani lately, and less time with the club. Way less time at the club parties.
I didn't give a shit what Mad Dog thought, but all the same his potshots were starting to piss me the fuck off. So what if I didn't want to be in my sixties, running around on my Old Lady and fucking a bunch of twenty-year old skanks who were coked out of their heads?
Fuck that.
I could already feel myself on edge.
I shrugged, forcing myself to respond calmly, to practice the things Dani was trying to get me to do, all the yoga and meditation shit. "Took me longer than I thought to get away from the house."
Deep breath.
Inhale.
Fucking Zen, baby.
Exhale.
Meditation didn't do jack shit for me.
"We're all done here, guys," Mad Dog said, nodding toward the door. The three shuffled out wordlessly, and I heard the door shut loudly behind them.
"Sit, sit." Mad Dog gestured to the chair in front of the desk and plopped into his chair opposite me, propping his feet up. He loved this set up, his shitty little office. He loved to have me sit across from him, bark orders like he was the fucking CEO of a corporation in a five thousand dollar suit and not his piece of shit jeans and ratty tee-shirt, grease-stained from working on bikes.
I was getting just a little fucking resentful, that was all.
"You wanted to meet, Boss?" I asked.
"You're getting married, soon, Blaze," he began, cutting off the end of a cigar and rolling it around in his fingers, over and over.
"That's right." Maybe he wanted to be my best man. The thought popped into my head, out of nowhere, and struck me as hilarious because of its absurdity. I couldn't even begin to imagine it.
"Dani," he said. "She's a good girl, isn't she?"
I nodded. Where the fuck was this conversation going? I didn't like hearing Mad Dog talk about Dani. "I'm lucky to be with her."
"Smart, tough, rich," he said. "A hot piece."
I cleared my throat, interrupting him. I definitely didn't want Mad Dog talking about what a hot piece of ass my fucking fiancé was. I'd already seen the way he looked at her.
"Be careful what you say, Boss," I warned, intentionally keeping my tone light. "I get real possessive of her."
Mad Dog raised one hand in the air, lighting up his cigar, obviously ignoring what I had said. "You mind?" he asked, after he'd already taken a drag. "And rich. Filthy rich. All that money from her father."
I nodded. "All that money." I didn't like where this was headed. "What are you asking, exactly, Prez?"
Mad Dog took a long drag on the cigar, then blew smoke rings, watching them intently as they floated in the air between us. When he spoke, it sounded casual, but I knew it was far from it. "All that money, and she's going to be the Old Lady of a biker?"
I shrugged. "Dani doesn't much care about the money," I said. But do you know that's true? I wasn't sure.
The truth was, we hadn't exactly talked about it. After she shot Guillermo, we had just continued along as if nothing had happened. I hadn't asked her about the inheritance, and she hadn't brought it up. Why the hell would she want to marry into this life, now that she had all that money?
Why the hell would she want to marry me? She'd been trying to talk to me about the wedding; maybe she was trying to get out of it. I started to feel this burning feeling in the pit of my stomach, acid churning.
"She may be wanting to reevaluate priorities," Mad Dog said. "So might you."
"What the hell are you asking?" I didn't have the energy to be polite anymore, to keep the edge of irritation out of my voice. My mind was racing, churning with thoughts of doubt about what Dani might want for the future. And what I might want for the future.