Chapter 3 Killian #2
“I’m not letting you borrow my shit. You’re already borrowing my fucking apartment, and you’re not showing any signs of leaving. Wouldn’t want you to get the idea that you could take my truck anytime you wanted. Fuck knows you’ll never give it back.”
Hurt flashed in her eyes, and it felt like a knife had slid between my ribs.
Callie slammed her piping bag down. “That was fucking rude, Kil. What is wrong with you? Laura and I went apartment hunting just a few days ago, she is trying, and she—”
“It’s okay, Cal,” Laura interrupted, untying her apron.
Callie’s glare was a silent threat to be nicer to her friend. This was what needed to change. I didn’t owe her or anyone else shit. I didn’t need to be nice or do favors. Only reason I was willing to take her to run errands was because she was prepping for my party.
“We’ll be back.” I exhaled, locking eyes with Wes for a moment. His gaze was hard, but he remained silent.
Laura grabbed a zip-up hoodie and pulled it on, then snatched her purse before storming past me. I watched her ass sway in the tight jeans she wore. Her loose bun bobbed while she stomped, and more pieces began to fall around her shoulders, coming undone. She seemed completely unbothered by it.
“Where is your truck?” she snapped, folding her arms over her chest.
My eyes traveled there next, ogling her tits.
She had the best rack of anyone I’d ever seen, but I wasn’t a tit man, nor was I an ass man.
I was usually drawn to women who were a bit edgier, covered in tattoos, leather and piercings.
Nothing like the blonde-haired, blue-eyed pixie fuming in front of me.
“Garage,” I clipped, jogging down the steps and striding across the gravel. I gave a long look toward my bike while Laura trailed after me.
Her face was down, and that was good. The less we interacted the better.
When we entered the large garage off the side of the clubhouse, I unlocked the doors and Laura quickly cut toward the passenger side. The gunmetal gray F150 sat taller with the lift I’d just had added to it, but with the foot bar, she shouldn’t have an issue.
Once we were both inside, and she shut her door, I tried to ignore the subtle hints of citrus coming from her. It was orange and lemon, something spicy and addicting.
“You want to brush that mop out of your eyes, or you good?” I started the truck, knowing I was being a prick, but her beauty got under my skin. She was too pretty, and it made me aware of her in a way that bordered on obsessive, which I didn’t like.
She slid her hands into her hair and let the weight fall as she pulled the elastic free. The citrus aroma amplified, and the way her hair looked, long and shiny, while being curled on the ends, fuck, it was perfect.
“Are we going to drive, or did you forget how?” Her blue eyes finally slid over, narrowing on me.
I hated that she was able to verbally spar with me. I cleared my throat and started the truck.
The overcast sky stretched overhead as we made our way toward the city. She began looking through her purse, pausing briefly on a list in her hand, before swapping over to her cell. She was focused, ignoring me, and I didn’t like it.
“So, you’re apartment hunting?”
Her eyes stayed on her lap. “Yeah.”
I looked over quickly before refocusing on the road. “Find anything good?”
She made a small humming sound but didn’t reply.
Fuck, I hated how we always seemed to fall into this role right here.
I would be a prick, she would fight back, I’d get hard and want her to lower her walls, but she’d just throw up a middle finger, and we’d be in a fight.
I’d never met anyone like her; most women wanted me.
Or some aspect at least, my position in the club, or just a chance to suck my dick; either way, they were agreeable.
“So where do you need to stop first?”
She finally looked over at me. “The Dollar General.”
Flipping my blinker, I turned down the street for the butcher. “They don’t open for another hour or so.”
“Shit,” she breathed, crossing something out on her list.
“You need to grab some meat from the butcher, right?” I pulled into one of the open spaces in front of the shop. The smoke house had a raised porch, and an old, battered door that was abused by the weather, and hadn’t been repaired in years.
Laura pulled her list closer to her face. “Yeah, I need to get patties and brats.”
I jumped out and rounded the truck, not really thinking about opening the door for her but doing it regardless.
“I used to be the one who had to hunt all this stuff down back when we had big events.”
Laura tilted her face to the side, keeping in step with me as we scaled the steps.
“The last one would have been for Wes, right?”
Her remark hit painfully hard. Months later, and it still felt like a rough rock being scraped over exposed flesh.
Going back to that moment when Simon had announced to everyone that Wes would be the new president after his passing.
Regardless that I had been acting vice president for over six years.
He’d selected Wes, and not me and I simply had to accept it.
Wes had tried to assuage my shame by explaining that he’d only been selected because Simon knew it was temporary.
Still fucking hurt. I was the backup plan, no other way to spin it in my head.
“Yep.”
“I still don’t understand why he’s stepping down. I feel like he’s been leading just fine while being with Callie.”
She didn’t seem to know her friend very well. She obviously had no idea how badly Callie hated this life, or why it was such a big deal that the man she was with would not lead a motorcycle club.
“Guess you wouldn’t really understand it, outsiders rarely do.”
Her gaze skimmed over me, her lips parting the smallest bit as if she were surprised by my answer.
“Can I help y—” The butcher’s words died on his tongue the second he spotted me.
“Killian…I wasn’t expecting you to be the one to grab the order.” John ducked his head, wincing the smallest bit.
The butcher and I had a bit of a past. A bloody one, where the fucker tried to fight me for my spot in the club.
When I beat him, he had to leave. I had told Simon getting our meat from someone who had an ax to grind with us wasn’t a good idea, but he said we didn’t need to worry about it.
Still wasn’t sure what that meant, but now that things were transferring to me, maybe it was time I found someone else.
“John.” I nodded toward him.
Laura cleared her throat and stepped closer to the counter. “Can I add something to this order, or is it too late?”
John flicked a quick look my way before settling on the blonde in front of him. The way his eyes dipped to her cleavage didn’t escape me, nor did the way his lips twisted into something salacious.
“You can add just about any sort of meat you’d like to that order, honey, and I’d be happy to oblige.”
Laura’s pouty lips slid into an easy smile, but I didn’t miss the crinkle near her eyes. “Chicken…I need to add a few thighs and breasts to the order.”
John’s gaze flicked down her frame again. “Breasts?”
Something inside me bristled at how he was staring at her.
I cleared my throat, but John didn’t seem to notice.
“I have some juicy breasts in the back, wanna come take a look? I think my meat will exceed your expectations.”
Fuck. This. Guy. “Say one more disgusting thing to her, just one fucking more, and I will knock your teeth into your throat.”
John’s face paled as his eyes snapped away from Laura’s chest.
“I wasn’t saying anything inappropriate. I’m sorry if she took it wrong,” John argued, but Laura cut him off.
“She didn’t take it wrong. She understood perfectly what you were doing and saying.
She is right fucking here, and if he didn’t say something first, I would have.
I’m a customer, not a poster for you to stare at.
Meet my eye level and stop watching my chest. I want chicken added to the order, and because you’re so unprofessional, I’d like you to add them at no extra cost.”
John regarded me, as if he needed approval, but I merely stared back.
I was mildly impressed with the way the tiny pixie handled that, but irritation over how unfazed she seemed to be by someone making lewd and suggestive comments to her, seemed to burn in my chest. While John went into the back to grab our order, I walked behind Laura’s back, skimming her shoulder.
“Why do we need chicken exactly?”
Laura tipped her head back, nailing me with a severe eye roll. “Well, if you took two seconds away from getting your dick sucked, or fucking your way through the club, you’d notice that Hamish has been having some health issues. He’s supposed to cut back on red meat. So are Pops and Brooks.”
Shit, I had missed that about the old timers.
Poor Hamish was getting up there in years.
His limp had become more pronounced, and he’d been coughing a lot more.
He was one of the only old timers who knew my dad, and watched out for me when he’d gone to prison.
He was a good guy, and Laura’s summarization of me was annoyingly accurate.
Except of course for the reason behind why I came across as distracted.
She thought I was getting sucked off and fucking my way through the club, and that’s exactly what I wanted her to think.
“You seem rather bothered by the fact that I’ve been distracted lately.”
She shrugged, pulling on a piece of plastic resting on the lip of the counter. “I’m actually impressed. Now that some time has passed and I’ve had a chance to get to know a few of the members, I plan on indulging in a little distraction myself.”
“Is that why there was a bike outside of—"