Didn't stop me from ripping the cheap booze outta Sixty's hand and sloshing the rest of it in a tall glass. He grumbled, cursed, and protested while I poured the vile brew down my throat, hoping the napalm fire in my guts would temporarily wash away the crushing disappointment waiting for me in my room.
“Easy, jackass. It's been a long night,” Crawl said, his eyes narrowed. “You running after the bottle because she's being a bitch, or what? Don't tell me she ain't even grateful?”
They both glared, demanding an answer. I shrugged and pounded my glass on the counter, turning around before I could say anything.
“I appreciate you boys having my back today, brothers. Really. I'll deal with her. I only need a day or two. Your job's done. Leave the rest to me.”
“You can say that again, bro,” Sixty said. “Remember the agreement – once the Prez or Veep find out about what went down, we're like ghosts. This shit was all you. We'll leave it to you, so long as you leave us the fuck out of it.”
I nodded. Fair was fair, and I'd keep my word. I'd keep it with her, too, as soon as I managed to get her on board with getting her sweet ass home faster.
Too bad that was gonna be a helluva conundrum unless her loaded fucking parents decided to unload some money in our club coffers.
There had to be a middle way to do this. We had to get her home, get Dust the money we needed to hang on, and stop the full force of the FBI or the Deadhands from raining hell down on us.
There wasn't any sugar coating this shit. I'd thrown the club into chaos over a strange woman who'd twisted my dick in more knots than any woman should. Worse, I'd never even fuck her on top of it – not unless I wanted to land my sorry ass in a deeper pit.
The whiskey hit while I was out back, taking in all the fresh mountain air, the true drug I needed before I went inside to deal with her. I staggered inside, one hand on my guts, cursing myself for drinking so much of that cheap bootleg swill.
Fire tore through me, pleasurable and painful. I fumbled with my key in the lock for what seemed like five or ten minutes before I finally crashed inside, kicking it shut behind me.
She was huddled in the corner. The girl looked up like I'd just burst through the wall, her mouth hanging open.
The kindness in those blue eyes I'd always seen before evaporated. Now, those pearly blues shone nothing but hate, disgust, fear.
Fuck me. I'd given her enough shocks today, but what was one more?
Maybe the crude whiskey had more booze in it than I realized, or it was some sick combination of the long trip, the shootout, and taking this girl hostage. Whatever the fuck it was, I couldn't stand up.
She whimpered as I collapsed, crashing to the ground next to her.
A boot to the ribs woke me up. I jerked awake and rolled, my head pounding, using the adrenaline surge to slough off the hangover and reach for the switchblade I always kept on me.
Who the fuck was kicking me in my own damned room? If anybody wanted to come after me or Meg, I'd shred them wide open before they got in a second blow. I bolted up.
By the time I opened my eyes, I was crouched on one knee, my blade ready to disembowel the Prez.
“Shit!” I lowered it, ready to kick my own ass for my mistake.
He booted me again.
This time, I didn't fight. I fucking deserved it. Every swift, brutal, rib bruising crack.
“You stupid sonofabitch,” Dust growled, motioning to Joker at his side. “Get him on the bed. Let's decide whether he deserves a chance to spill his guts about what the hell's going on before we gut him for real.”
“Shit, come on! You've gotta listen to me, she's not what she looks like. I brought her here for a good reason, Prez, honest-to-God, I did!”
He wasn't listening. Not while the bulldog faced Veep raised me up and slammed me on my crappy bed. I heard Meg let out a scream behind them, cowering in the same corner where I'd left her.
I hated myself for putting her through more fucking violence after I'd tried to deliver her from it. Of course, my brothers would never hurt her.
None of us were black hearted bastards like the Deads. But they wouldn't hesitate to beat my ass to a bloody pulp in front of her if that's what they decided I deserved.
The Prez leered over me, his gray eyes searching, wrapping his hand around my throat. He squeezed so hard my windpipe pinched shut. I couldn't breathe. Rage creased his face, and the black stubble on his chin made him like a cactus sent to tear the life outta me.
“I practically had to rip this place apart to find out what the fuck happened. I promised the brothers I'd give you one chance, and one chance only, to talk. In my office. Now.” His hand pulled away and I jerked on the bed.
Sweet release. I inhaled so hard it started a coughing fit when he finally released me. Joker tore me up before I could get air back into my system. They weren't fucking around as they hauled me out of the room.
We marched past Firefly, who just looked at me and shook his big head. You poor, miserable bastard.
His expression said it all.