Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
His arm being smacked almost had Zeke spilling his damn beer as he lifted it to his lips. “What the fuck?”
Zane grabbed the stool next to him at the club’s private bar. “What’re you doin’, asshole?”
Zeke lifted his full pint glass. “You blind?”
“No. Need one of those.” Zane called out to the sweet butt standing at the other end of the bar, “Hey, Cherry! Grab me a beer.”
“Hey, Chill,” she greeted in a wispy voice.
“Sounds like someone wants your dick.”
“He’s got a nice one,” Cherry confirmed with a seductive wink as she headed to the beer tap.
“Don’t think you’re that picky,” Zeke told her.
Zane grinned. “She told me mine’s nicer than yours.”
“Mine’s bigger.”
“It wasn’t when we measured them back when I was in fifth grade.”
Cherry scraped her long blood-red nails over Zane’s forearm when she dropped off a full pint glass. “I mean, you can both whip them out and I can be the judge,” she suggested with another wink.
“You’ve already seen them both up close,” Zane reminded her.
Her dark red painted lips curled up at the ends. “But not at the same time.”
Fuck that, Zeke wasn’t sharing any woman with his blood brother. “Ain’t whippin’ out our dicks and slappin’ them on the bar.”
Zane grinned. “Since when do you fuckin’ care who sees your dick? In fact, who hasn’t seen it? So, lyin’ about your size ain’t gonna fly.”
It was too early in the day to deal with this shit. “Why you here ‘stead of the pawn shop?”
“Bri’s got it under control,” Zane answered.
“Wasn’t my question. You’re the fuckin’ manager.”
“And so is she. She knows how to handle the business, brother, and does it well. She sent me out to get lunch from Bangin’ Burgers.”
“Does this look like a fuckin’ burger joint?”
“No, but figured I’d stop in and find your lazy ass since I got an idea I wanna run past you. You had me thinkin’ ‘bout businesses that ain’t illegal and would be damn good money makers for the club.”
He might not admit it out loud, but his baby brother had a few moments where he was smart as fuck. “Ears are open.”
Zane glanced down the bar to where the red-headed club girl was now doing something on her phone. “So’s someone else’s. Wanna take this elsewhere?”
“Fuck no. Wanna enjoy my fuckin’ beer while it’s cold. Cherry, get fuckin’ lost, will ya?”
“Want me to wait in your room, Trouble?”
“Don’t care where the fuck you wait. Just not here. Got business to discuss.”
“And club business ain’t women’s business,” she quoted in a deeper voice as she came out from behind the bar after nabbing two shot glasses and a half-kicked bottle of Jack.
Zeke turned on his stool to watch the exaggerated swing of her hips in the short shorts she had poured herself into.
Their sweet butts tended to wear the most revealing shit they could fit into—even shit they couldn’t fit into.
He swore some shopped at kids’ clothing stores.
They figured the more tits and ass they showed off, the more likely they’d get attention from the biker they wanted to dig their claws into.
Sometimes it worked; most times it didn’t.
Zeke sighed and turned back to his brother. “Think she’ll end up in your room or mine?”
“Hopefully yours. She ends up in mine, she’s gonna be passed out drunk ‘cause I got a list of fuckin’ shit to do today and not one of those things is Cherry.”
“That list includin’ pickin’ up lunch like a little bitch and then headin’ back to fuckin’ work?”
“Wanna talk ‘bout who should be at fuckin’ work?”
“Bein’ president of this highly esteemed organization is fuckin’ work.”
Zane’s head jerked back. “Where the fuck you learn those big words, brother? Did you and your last cellie bond by cuddlin’ and readin’ in bed together every night to expand that limited vocab of yours?”
“That ass wipe was lucky I didn’t slice his fuckin’ throat.” It had been close too many damn times.
“Know how to pick better roommates?” Zane leaned closer and said, “Don’t go to fuckin’ prison.”
“Gonna keep that pearl of fuckin’ wisdom in mind.” Zeke tapped his temple. “Now, whatcha got?”
“Why no one brought this idea up before, I’ll never fuckin’ know. Especially Dad since he was the best prez this club ever had.”
Of course his brother had to get in another fucking dig. “Will you just fuckin’ tell me?”
“A dispensary.”
Zeke did a double take. “You mean sellin’ weed?”
“Officially, it’d be medical marijuana since it’s now legal here.”
“Dumb as fuck that those fuckers limited it. All pot should be legal.” The powers that be didn’t have a problem with drunk fuckers or prescription pill poppers, but weed was where they drew the fucking line?
What a fucking joke.
How many people died due to alcohol or overdoses versus how many died due to being too damn stoned?
“Agreed, but for now, it ain’t. Despite bein’ limited, the fuckin’ industry’s still a cash cow. The biggest hurdle’s gonna be the strict regulations.”
“Of fuckin’ course they’re strict. Doubt they’d want a bunch of fuckin’ degenerates like us to open one.”
“Speak for yourself,” Zane muttered.
“Ain’t just speakin’ for myself. Your ass might be squeaky fuckin’ clean but the rest of us? Not so much.”
“Shouldn’t be much different than the club ownin’ the gun shop or the bar.”
“Yeah, but those were opened a long fuckin’ time ago. Long before us, brother.” Zeke took another swig of his beer before it turned to lukewarm piss.
“They could still pull our licenses if the state got a wild hair up their asses. We don’t wanna lose those, Zeke.
Both bring in some solid scratch. This is one reason why the club needs to keep our shit legit.
Ain’t a good look that the head of our club—that’s you, if you’ve forgotten—thinks prison cells got a revolvin’ fuckin’ door. ”
Zeke guzzled the rest of his beer, slammed the pint glass on the bar top, and let out a loud belch. “Ain’t ever goin’ back.”
Zane snorted. “Yeah, right. You said that last time. And the time before that. And the—”
“Got your fuckin’ point. Mean it this time. Don’t wanna lose my spot at the head of the table.”
“That’s the most important reason to keep your ass outta prison?”
Zeke might have a new reason to keep his shit straight, but until he got confirmation on his suspicion, he wasn’t saying dick. “Didn’t say it was the only reason. Any-fuckin’-way, think we got enough scratch for that shit?”
“Guess we need to ask Cruz. As the fuckin’ treasurer, he should know that info.”
He should. Didn’t mean he did. “Then fuckin’ ask him. If we can swing it, set up a meet with the rest of the officers. Bring all the details so we can vote on it.”
Zane grinned. “Sounds like you think it’s a good idea.”
“Think it’s a genius fuckin’ idea.” Zeke didn’t mind giving credit where credit was due. “And we’ll get more benefit than just scratch out of it.”
Zane groaned. “Just remember it’s a highly regulated industry. We’re gonna have to deal with a lotta red tape and bureaucracy bullshit.”
“That’s why we got club attorneys.” Zeke added a huge grin.
Rage’s mother used to be their sole attorney, but now they had two. Dawg’s daughter, Lily, and Linc’s daughter, Adrianna, had taken over Kiki’s former law firm and were doing a damn good job at it, too.
“They’re attorneys, not goddamn government whisperers.”
“They’re both smart, ruthless, and relentless. That’s why the club covered their damn education. Have a sit down with Lily, see what she says, and present it at the table.”
“You for it, even if openin’ it’s gonna be a pain in the ass?”
“Fuck yeah. It’s a fuckin’ cash business. Can’t get better than that.”
“But it’ll be like the gun shop where we gotta hire people without a record.”
Zeke shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Let Lily go over the small details. She ain’t gonna blow smoke up our asses if it’s outta our reach.”
The swinging door from the commercial kitchen opened and a head peeked around it. “Hey, Prez, Kyra’s looking for you.”
What the fuck?
Coop, one of The Iron Horse’s managers and an OG, said, “Thought she booked it outta town after she caught Bunny suckin’ your dick.”
Zane answered, “She did, but she didn’t fuckin’ catch him. He did it out in the open, not givin’ a shit who saw it.”
Coop smirked. “For the rest of us, ain’t nothin’ fuckin’ new. Apparently, for her, it was.”
Zeke could feel his brother’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his face. “You tryin’ to get back with her?”
“No.”
“Good, ‘cause if you were, don’t think she’d appreciate Cherry waitin’ upstairs for you. Most likely naked and already on her way to bein’ smashed.”
Fuck. “Good thing Kyra ain’t goin’ upstairs, then.”
“Good thing.” When Zane chuckled, Zeke ground his teeth.
“Want me to send her in here?” Coop asked. “Or you wanna talk to her over in the bar?”
Zeke glanced at his brother. Of course the fucker was grinning ear to ear. “Do me a favor and go up and make sure Cherry ain’t up in my fuckin’ room.”
“Ain’t your little bitch. Accordin’ to you, I’m Bri’s bitch and I got lunch to pick up, remember? Somethin’ I’ll actually benefit from. Not babysittin’ a sweet butt.”
“She can blow you quick,” Zeke suggested.
Zane sucked down the rest of his beer and stood. “Rather have Bangin’ Burgers.” He whacked Zeke on the arm again. “Good fuckin’ luck, brother.”
Zeke could hear his brother chuckling all the way through the common area and out the door to the rear parking lot.
“Prez?”
He swung his attention back to Coop. Fuck.
He glanced around to make sure no one else was lurking. “Send her in here.”
With an answering nod, the door swung shut.
Why the fuck was Kyra here? To give him more shit?
He needed something stronger than a fucking beer. He opened his mouth to order a whiskey and realized he was alone. With a grumble, he got up and went behind the bar, hoping Cherry didn’t take the only fucking bottle of Jack left.
Fuck it. He snagged another brand of whiskey instead, poured himself two fingers-worth, and knocked it back. He then poured another two fingers-worth and waited.
When the door swung open again, his heart seized, then restarted with a bang.
He never missed any other female like he had missed Kyra. He thought he was over her. Her return proved he was fucking wrong.
It still fucked with his head that she looked exactly like the last time he saw her, except for her hips being a bit wider and her tits a bit fuller. Most likely from spitting out that boy of hers.
A boy that might be his.
If he knocked someone up by accident, at least Kyra was a better choice than a fucking sweet butt or one of the strippers from Heaven’s Angels.
“Whatcha doin’ here? Thought you hated me.”
She stopped at the end of the bar with her expression completely blank. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
He glanced around. “This ain’t good enough?”
“Somewhere more private, like your room?”
Oh fuck! “Room smells like shit. Got a mountain of dirty laundry up there. Safer down here and nobody’s around to hear us.”
“But anyone can walk through.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, drawing his attention to that mouth. The one that used to be his. The one he wrecked many times with his dick.
“They do, we’ll go out to the courtyard.”
She finally released her bottom lip. “Fine. What I have to say won’t take long, anyway.”
“Last I checked, fuck off’s just two words.”
“Two words you’d ignore, regardless.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“I talked to Vi.”
No surprise since they used to be tight. “You give her shit for givin’ me your info?”
“That was the plan.”
“Sounds like your plan didn’t go the way you fuckin’ wanted.”
“It didn’t.”
Her carefully blank expression was not helping the acid bubbling up from deep down in his gut. “And?” Neither was the deep breath she took.
“And she convinced me to do the right thing.”
He grabbed his whiskey and stepped closer, searching her face. “What right thing?” He held out the glass to her.
Was she going to admit the truth?
While he wanted to hear it, his brain started to spin. His life might fucking change in the next pounding heartbeat.
Though, he wasn’t expecting her to grab the glass and knock it back as fast as he had.
She hissed out a breath, set the empty glass on the bar, and swiped the back of her wrist over her mouth.
She opened her mouth, but shut it just as quickly.
She did it again.
And again.
Holy fuck! He was about to have a goddamn heart attack if she didn’t just spit it the fuck out!
No reason to extend the torture. “Ledger’s mine, ain’t he?”
She closed her eyes and whispered, “Yes.”
Zeke grabbed the edge of the bar so his knees wouldn’t give out. He had already known, but hearing it confirmed… “That why you left?”
“The truth is, I didn’t know I was pregnant when I left.
I only planned to be gone for a short while because I needed to get over you and I figured staying in Shadow Valley surrounded by the DAMC, as well as everyone else who knew us both, would make that more difficult.
I needed a clean break to eradicate you from my system. ”
“But you didn’t say shit after findin’ out.”
“No. I considered it, but I also thought carefully about how you lived your life, Zeke. How reckless you could be. Your lifestyle is not a way to raise a well-adjusted child. Ledger was my priority, then, and still is.”
He wasn’t sure if he was pissed off, disappointed, or both.
He lost years with his own fucking kid.
His fucking son! His blood.
He stared at the woman he’d now be tied to for the rest of his life.
Again, if it had to be someone, Kyra wasn’t a bad choice. At least she put their kid first.
Even if it was over her son’s father.