Chapter 19 Silver #2
Moses, Mudd, and Johnny Flanagan are gathered around him like disciples. The way they’re leaning in, the excited energy in the room—I know exactly what he’s pitching before he even opens his mouth.
“—triple our profits within three months,” Tom’s saying, motioning his hands like a preacher.
“Coke, meth, girls. The holy trinity of money making, boys. That, and our surcharges to the small businesses in town. We’ve got the connections, the territory, the muscle.
We just need to get the ball rolling and make it happen. ”
“Drugs, prostitutes, and bullying local shop owners again, Tom?” I interrupt from the doorway. “That the direction you’re going in?”
Everybody turns for a look at me. Tom’s smile doesn’t falter, but his eyes go cold.
“Jack, just in time. Was explaining to the boys how we’re gonna solve our financial problems. We’re back in business. It’s about time, I’d say!”
“You’re on parole. You trying to get sent back to prison? Take all of us with you this time?”
“I know what I’m doing. Besides, nothing a kickback or two can’t solve. Everybody knows Captain Vargas and Lieutenant Gillard are corrupt.”
“You mean like you knew what you were doing last time? That’s exactly how you got caught. DEA—not local PD—had you dead to rights because you got greedy. You got sloppy. That’s why we had to go underground, find more discreet revenue streams.”
Tom cackles like what I’ve said is ridiculous. “What revenue? Didn’t you say yourself the club’s struggling financially? And lemme tell you—others have said the same.”
The other guys shift uncomfortably. Moses looks borderline guilty while Mudd won’t meet my eyes. Johnny simply watches on as if he’s attending a boxing match.
“This isn’t about morals, Jack,” Tom continues. “This is about me fixing problems. Like always. Most of them problems that happened on your watch, while you were playing it safe.”
My jaw clenches, the urge to stride up and knock him out stronger than it’s ever been.
Every instinct pulsing through me demands I do a lot more than that.
Put him through a wall. Break that already crooked nose of his.
Teach him what happens when he mouths off like the delusional, scummy asshole he’s become.
But I resist, deciding to let him crash and burn like last time.
“You do whatever the fuck you want,” I snarl. “But I’m not interested. Your last scheme landed Ozzie with a bullet graze and Big Ed shot in the arm. You’re about to take even more guys down with you fucking with the Penas. Going back to your old ways. I won’t be a part of it.”
I turn and walk out, leaving them to their world domination plotting.
Tom thinks he’s some genius that’ll rule the town with an iron fist while profiting like never before. Some guys like Johnny might fall for it, but the inevitable downfall will prove me right in the end.
I make it back onto the bar floor, still fuming, only to stop dead in my tracks.
Solana’s at the bar, laughing at something Tate’s saying. More than just a polite chuckle—it’s a real laugh, the kind where her whole face lights up. She’s wearing jeans and a simple t-shirt that both hug her curves a little too well.
A little too distractingly.
Tate’s leaning in close, that cocky grin on his face he uses on every woman who walks through these doors.
The muscles in my chest tighten and jealousy burns through my veins like acid.
She throws her head back as she laughs, and Tate’s eyes shift to the column of her throat. I know exactly what the fuck he’s thinking as he watches her laugh at whatever the hell he’s said.
His hand’s on the bar counter, resting inches from hers.
The bastard’s actually flirting with Eddie’s niece and Moses’s little sister, right here in the open like he doesn’t give a shit about rules.
Everybody knows female family members are supposed to be off-limits. It’s a matter of respect.
Mick’s behind the bar mixing up a drink. The concoction looks suspiciously like a rum and Coke.
Ozzie and Zoe are at a nearby table eating lunch together, but they’re watching the scene too, probably noticing the heavy flirting going on.
I’m moving before I realize it, my already bad mood magnifying by ten. The expression on my face darkens as I stride over and put a stop to the giggles and pickup lines.
“Sure hope there’s no alcohol in that drink you’re making her,” I snap at Mick first. “She’s twenty.”
Solana’s laughter dies once she notices me. There’s a flash of irritation in her eyes. Irritation mixed with defiance and some hurt.
“For two more weeks,” she says hotly.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re still underage,” I answer, leaving no room for objection in my tone. “Moses know you’re here?”
She crosses her arms, matching my energy with sass. “Who do you think drove me?”
The tension between us is thick enough to cut. Tate’s looking back and forth between us, confusion clear on his face. Ozzie’s stopped mid-bite of his burger. Even Zoe’s staring in puzzled interest.
“Uh… everything okay, kids?” Mick asks slowly, setting down the glass. “Seems like there’s some tension here. This was just a Cherry Coke, by the way, Silver. No alcohol involved.”
I realize how this looks—me storming over, getting in Solana’s face about a damn Coke. I’ve come across like some overbearing asshole with a personal stake in everything she does.
…which makes no sense considering, as far as everybody knows, we’re cordial at best. We’re barely on a first name basis.
If only everybody knew what a lie that is.
I force myself to draw a breath, dialing myself down a notch. “Everything’s fine. Just… just making sure nothing bad’s happening. I’m… uh, heading home anyway.”
Not a second later, Moses appears from the back office. He claps Ozzie on the back as he passes him up and mentions how he’s starving. Tom called a break during their meeting and now he needs some fuel.
He joins us at the bar counter, tipping his head at the Texas Pike beer bottles on the wall behind Mick.
“Hey, Sol, change of plans,” he says. “Can’t drive you to school after all. Club business came up.”
“I can take her,” Tate pipes up. “If you don’t mind riding on the back of my bike.”
Solana’s smile almost returns as she considers his offer.
But I’m already ready to dead that idea on the spot.
The thought of Solana’s arms wrapped around Tate, her body pressed against his as they ride, makes me see red. Before I can even try to act casual, I’m objecting.
“No. I’ll do it.”
Everybody glances over at me. I scramble for an explanation that doesn’t sound completely crazy.
“I’ll take her in my truck. It’s right outside. She babysits my kids anyway, least I can do.”
Moses shrugs, oblivious to the undercurrents. “Alright, cool. Thanks, brother. That good with you, Sol?”
She’s glaring at me, barely containing her irritation. Her arms are still crossed, the energy she exudes making it clear how she really feels. But she looks between me and Moses like she’s weighing her options anyway. Finally, she says, “It’s fine.”
Moses heads back to the office with his fresh beer. Tate’s already pulling out his phone, the moment forgotten, probably moving on to his next conquest.
Meanwhile, Solana’s still eyeing me as if she’s tempted to have it out right here and now.
…in front of everyone.
I clear my throat and say, “Let’s go.”
We head for the door, her walking slightly ahead as if she can’t bear to be near me. But it’s Mick who really holds my attention as we leave.
He’s watching us go with a curious expression on his weathered face. It reads like somebody solving a puzzle.
The old-school bartender sees and hears everything. If there’s something going on in the club, he’s usually one of the first to know about it.
The second we’re alone in the truck, Solana turns on me.
“You’re jealous.”
“I’m tired. You said you’ve got class?”
“You want to dictate everything I do while claiming you don’t want me.”
“I’m looking out for you.” I grip the wheel as I shift gears into drive, and we roll forward into the street.
But I’m already distracted by how her perfume fills the cab. The light, fruity scent only reminds me how good she’d smelled when I held her the other night.
I push that memory out of my mind and focus on the topic at hand.
“Do you have any idea how Tate operates?” I ask her. “He’s got a different chick every other night. Rinse and repeat.”
“So what? He’s cute.”
“So what?” I take my eyes off the road to glance at her. “So he’s not good for you!”
“You said you’re not good for me either!” she counters smartly. “Starting to think you believe nobody’s good enough for me. So what am I supposed to do, Silver? Never date? Never be with another man? Or is your problem really that you want me but refuse to admit it?”
The accusation… is obviously true. We both know it.
I’m not fooling either of us. Least of all myself.
I grind my teeth and try to focus on the road ahead. But desire and frustration collide inside me, swirling into some dangerous new emotion that consumes me whole.
It’s intense enough that I jerk the wheel to change lanes without checking properly, nearly sideswiping a Toyota. The driver lays on the horn.
“Fuck!” I slam the brakes, yanking the truck to the side of the street and throwing it in park. My heart’s pounding, energy pulsing through me and begging for release.
We both sit still for a second digesting the near crash we were just in. Then I turn to face her, chest heaving.
“Let’s get one thing straight—”
But I never finish the sentence.
I don’t finish because my gaze anchors to hers and I see the same temptation staring back at me. The same thin restraint that’s quickly running out.
That does run out as finally it all becomes too much.
We crash together in an act of violent passion, mouths crushing in a kiss that’s nothing like the gentle one in my kitchen.
That was patient and searching. It was soft and almost shy.
This is the exact opposite, full of fire and heat and the most intense desperation. Her hands fist in my shirt, holding onto me. Mine tangle in her hair and grip at her hips, half dragging her into my lap.
I taste the vanilla lip balm on her lips and the sugar from the Cherry Coke she’d been sipping on. I listen to the tiny mewl she makes as I grip her tight and kiss her deep.
She has no fucking idea—she’s got no fucking clue how bad I want her and how I so easily could ruin her.
She doesn’t know what she’s started. But she’s about to find out.
Pure fire sears straight through me.
My hand slides from her waist to her thigh, squeezing her soft flesh hard and thinking about how sweet her little pussy would feel wrapped around my cock. About how good it’s about to feel sinking deep with my big cock stretching her.
But if she’s having second thoughts, she doesn’t give any indication. She kisses me just as hungrily, somewhat inexperienced in how she works her lips and tongue but still so fucking irresistible it doesn’t even matter.
I’ll teach her everything she needs to know.
Then I half come to my senses all at once.
I wrench myself back, both of us breathing hard. Her lips are even plumper than usual, eyes darker with want. I probably look just as wrecked.
“This is fucking crazy,” I pant, voice raspy and rough. “We’re in broad daylight. Anyone could see us. We can’t—”
“Take me to your place,” she says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
The demanding edge in her tone—the bossiness of it—shoots straight to my cock. This twenty-year-old woman ordering me around like she knows exactly what she wants.
It’s enough to convince me that maybe… she really does. Maybe I’m holding onto this restraint when really I should be throwing caution to the wind.
I should be pursuing what I really want.
“Alright,” I say. Then add, “Buckle up.”
She smirks at the order but listens, clicking her seatbelt back into place. “Yes, Daddy.”
Fuck.
This is so fucking wrong. I know it, but this time, I ignore it. I press the gas and drive us the rest of the way home.
We’re about to cross every line, break every rule, destroy every boundary I’ve tried to maintain.
But I’m done giving a shit about right and wrong.