Chapter 3
THREE
PUCK
Leaving my cut at the clubhouse was the best thing I could have done because cops were everywhere when I cruised into the Gaslamp District.
The major tourist spot had always been prone to idiot muscle heads who drank too much before starting brawls in the street, and scantily clad women who made men stupid enough to follow them around.
And as I cruised down the main drag, I felt freer than I had in years.
“There we go,” I murmured to myself.
The wind whipping around my body cooled off my hot temper.
Smelling the fresh salted ocean air reminded me of the life we were clamoring to get back to, even if it felt so fucking far away.
The O.G. members of the club didn’t have it nearly as rough as us new guys, though.
They were all shacked up with their pregnant women and getting laid every other night so they could forget about the absolute hellhole Diego had plunged us into.
And being around him and my sister was simply nauseating.
It wasn’t like I wasn’t happy for Ruby, because I was. Out of all of the women in my life, she was the one that deserved to be the happiest. But it was hard to let her go before, and it was still fucking hard to let her go now.
Especially since neither of us had proper parents.
My father wound up in jail when Ruby was very young, and our mother had been in and out of rehab for years.
We essentially raised ourselves, learning how to cook, clean, and dress ourselves from an impossibly young age.
Each time our mother disappeared when we were children, we’d ended up living with Mimi Mary.
Then, life was cruel enough to take her when Ruby and I turned eighteen.
Still, we were able to keep ourselves afloat.
Ruby took a job at the grocery store up the road and I took my anger out in the gym where I worked part-time washing sweaty-ass towels and cleaning toilets.
Once our father went to prison, we never heard from him again, and after Mom’s fourth induction into rehab, my twin sister and I learned that we’d always have to fend for ourselves.
That we simply couldn’t rely on anyone to be there for us in the long-term.
Some guys would tell you that I was jealous of what Ruby had found with Diego.
And while I’d never admit it out loud, there were some nights that I laid down in that dumbass warehouse and cursed everyone that had someone to lay beside.
Including my sister.
Ever since we were kids, it had always been me and her against the rest of the world.
We tag-teamed cleaning the house whenever Mom left in the middle of the night to go get high somewhere.
Ruby learned how to cook up a fucking storm and I learned how to fix just about anything that broke around the house.
Hell, I was pretty sure that if I ever went back to that horrid home, I’d still find most of the original appliances still working.
YouTube and ingenuity went far in the type of household I grew up in.
But now, Ruby had Diego. Now, she had another man—one she loved more than me—to lean on.
To trust. To rely on and enjoy. She didn’t need me as much as she used to, and I was having a hard time coming to terms with that.
My sister and I would frequently have late-night conversations whenever one of us couldn’t sleep.
It was a trend we developed after I had moved out and Ruby decided to stay in the house a little while longer by herself.
Every time we grew sick for one another, we were on the phone talking and laughing until we both fell asleep.
But every night for the past few nights, I had walked by the stairs leading up to Diego’s room.
Listening as the two of them giggled and talked.
Like we used to do before Diego took my place.
I let the lights, sounds, and the clamoring of voices overwhelm me as I cruised into the heart of the Gaslamp District.
I scanned the bars and clubs, trying to figure out where the hell I wanted to spend my time.
I’d never been a bar-hopper. I preferred to find a joint I was comfortable with and ride out the night there.
And when my eyes fell upon a bar called ‘Home Run,’ it practically screamed my name.
So, I parked my bike behind the bar and headed inside.
I shook the thought of Ruby and Diego together from my mind as I walked in through the back door.
This area of town wasn’t a place I usually frequented, but I was glad to be here, nonetheless.
I stood in the back of the bar and took in the scene of the dive bar around me.
I was surrounded by college kids celebrating the apparent win at the Padre’s game.
I cracked my neck as my boots clunked across the floor, making my way toward a booth in the corner where the lamp overhead was busted.
I enjoyed being shrouded in darkness. It felt like home to me.
Even though this bar certainly didn’t.
Still, it felt good to be outside of my typical haunts where no one recognized me.
That meant the likelihood of the Banderas Cartel seeking me out here was slim to none, which took a very serious weight off my shoulders.
I eased myself into the booth seat with my back to the bar and my eyes facing the front door.
I wanted to clock anyone and everyone that walked through those doors while I kept my side-eye trained on the entrance I had come through.
And after taking stock of all the ways I could quickly exit this place, I raised my hand.
“Be right with ya!” a girl cried out.
I nodded my head and leaned back against the worn booth cushion. Bass thumped from the speakers, and I chuckled as some of the college kids started dancing around me. As the thumping bass kept time with my beating heart, my muscles relaxed.
My pulse dropped into a comfortable zone.
The rest of my stress lifted from my shoulders.
And before I knew it, that cute little voice that had yelled at me earlier appeared at my side. “What can I getcha, handsome?!”
I looked up at the petite blonde who wasn’t at all my type. She had way too much makeup on her face and not a single curve on her body. But she would do for now.
“Just a beer.”
She scribbled on her notepad. “Anything else?”
I blinked. “Got any food?”
She pointed to the small stand-up menu in the corner. “Mostly finger foods.”
I peeked over at the small menu. “One of each.”
She scribbled again on her pad. “Comin’ right up!”
My gun pressed against my hip as it sat in the holster inside the waistband of my jeans.
While I was rebellious to a fault, I certainly wasn’t stupid.
I knew how to wear my piece without my cut and still keep it concealed so I didn’t cause mass panic wherever I went.
I watched the petite little girl with a bow in her hair flounce off and pass my order to the bartender.
When the woman looked over at me, I could’ve sworn she tossed me a wink.
So, I waved my fingers at her and flashed her my best smile.
Because if I had my way tonight, she’d be coming on the back of my bike before I made my way back to the clubhouse.
The blonde came back with a glass bottle of beer and two of the five plates of food I had ordered.
The onion rings smelled deliciously unhealthy, and the bacon-and-cheese-smothered fries called my name.
I took a long pull from my drink before squirting ketchup all over my onion rings, then plucked them one by one from the plate and shoved them into my mouth.
And that was when they walked through the front door.
With my beer paused halfway to my face and ketchup trickling down my chin, the most angelic woman sauntered her way into the bar.
Her fiery red hair was wavy and bounced all the way down past her voluptuous tits.
The short little dress she had on ruffled against the middle of her thick thighs and my mouth salivated.
Her sparkling forest green eyes darted around the room, seemingly on the prowl as her friend escorted her right up to the bar.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Even as my waitress set another beer in front of me with a plate of stuffed mushrooms, I couldn't pull away from her beauty. I’d never seen a woman walk as confidently or carry herself with such an air of poise before.
The smattering of freckles against her nose and cheeks trickled down her neck, my mouth itching for a taste.
And while I wasn’t sure how the hell I’d accomplish it, I knew I’d found my woman for the night.
All I had to do was convince her that I was the man of her dreams.