“C’mon, Wayne.” His friend pulled on his arm, looking at Knox warily, as though he was an animal that might pounce. They hurried back inside and left Knox alone, sulking in the shadows.
Not a minute passed before engines roared on the air. A few bikes pulled into the parking lot, spitting gravel up into the night. He stayed in the shadows as the group of bikers headed for the doors. A big bearded man marched at the center of the group, and Knox felt a jolt of recognition. He knew the man. The biker must have had a similar thought, for his eyes widened beneath the bandanna covering his forehead as his heavy boots stepped up on the wood porch.
“Callaghan, you bastard! That you? When did you get out?”
Knox couldn’t help but grin and push off the building. He hadn’t seen Blue McClintock in two years. He was part of Reid’s crew. He’d been there when he and North arrived at Devil’s Rock.
“Got out a few months ago,” he said as the two embraced in a quick hug.
“No shit? North out, too?’
His smile slipped and the usual twisting weight returned to his chest whenever he thought about his brother still behind those bars. “No. Not yet.”
“Ah, man, that’s too bad. Sure he’ll be out soon.” Blue clapped his shoulder encouragingly. “What are you doing with yourself?”
“Working here now.”
Blue nodded. “Well, you look good. Strong as an ox.” He clapped his back. “We spend a lot of good money at Roscoe’s. Glad to know some of it’s going to your pockets.” He smiled and nodded to his buddies. “These are some of my boys. They’re your friends now, too.” His expression turned solemn. “We’re still a crew, Callaghan. You need anything, I’m here.”
“Appreciate that, Blue.”
The biker turned, keeping a hold on Knox and bringing him with him toward the entrance. “Come on now. You can get me a drink on the house. Had a shit day and could use one.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Knox sighed before he could think about it, but Blue heard.
“You, too, huh?” he proclaimed as they stepped inside Roscoe’s. “Don’t tell me.” Rubbing his chin, he examined Knox. “Women troubles?”
Knox winced and shook his head, but it was too late.
“Of course it’s women,” Blue blustered. “You’re a good--looking sonuvabitch. You’ve probably had more ass than you can handle since you’ve been out.”
Knox shook his head as he stepped behind the bar. Blue and his friends took up the space in front of him, ordering their beer.
He pulled the bottles from the ice behind him, shaking his head. “Not like that, man.”
“Ohhh, shit,” Blue said knowingly. “It’s worse than that. It’s one woman.”
He started to deny it but closed his mouth with a snap. Blue wouldn’t believe him anyway. Hell, he didn’t know if he even believed that himself.
He shook his head. He and Briar were over. Done. A clean break. She wasn’t pregnant. He had no reason to continue seeing her. No more showing up in the middle of the night at her place, using her to fill the aching bleakness inside him and then slinking away before morning. She deserved better than that. Better than him.
She and he were worlds apart, and that’s how it would always be.
EIGHTEEN
“SO HAVE YOU told your sister?” Shelley asked as she carried over the sweating pitcher of homemade margaritas and poured more into Briar’s half--full glass.
Briar snorted and brought the frothy concoction to her lips. “The only thing Laurel knows is that I worked one day a week at the state prison and now that’s over.” That alone displeased her sister. She didn’t need to know more. She didn’t need to know about the lockdown. She didn’t need to know about Knox.
Shelley’s dark eyes boggled. “Seriously? You didn’t ever tell her about the attack?”
“No.”
Shelley plopped down on the couch, tucking her legs under her. Margarita sloshed over the rim of her glass and she licked the green froth from her fingers as she continued to stare wide--eyed at Briar. “So the whole being taken hostage and nearly getting raped by convicts . . .” She fluttered her fingers in the air as she took another sip. “Rescued by a hot--ass convict and then running into the same convict out on parole at the local corner store . . . bringing him back to your place for some hot monkey sex? None of that was worth mentioning?”
Briar lowered her glass from her lips. “God, no. You’ve met Laurel. Can you imagine? I would never hear the end of it.”
Shelly shrugged. “I’m sure if you really drove home how hot he is . . . and that he saved your life, she would have been down with you bringing him back to your place and fucking his brains out.”
“Uh. No.” Briar tossed a pillow at her friend. “He’s a dangerous felon. That’s all my sister would see.”