Chapter 5Evan
Chapter Five
EVAN
I can’t help but stand here still with my mouth hanging open like an idiot because he really just walked back out.
I’ve met a lot of rude and disrespectful people in my life, but he’s working his way up to the top of that list. I’m going to rip Zeke a new asshole for making me come here when he damn well could have just come to my house and talked about whatever he claimed he couldn’t say over the phone. I’ll be damned if I help out if the rest are assholes like that one. Hot as fuck or not.
Taking a seat at the bar, I look around a little more. I bet this place has some wild parties. I was never that girl. I got shitfaced once at a party in high school with a girl named Molly, who I thought was my friend at the time. I was trying to impress some stupid guy on the football team I thought I was in love with at the time. You know, that stupid baby love where you think they’re going to make everything all better? Jokes on me though, because halfway into the party, I ended up catching him with this tongue down Molly’s throat. I locked myself in the bathroom and called Zeke crying to come and get me. Learned my lesson with that one. Girls will never be your real friends. All it is in the end is one big fucking competition that you don’t even realize you’re competing in until your heart is ripped out of your chest and stomped on.
The same door that the asshole came through opens again, only this time he has Zeke in tow. My eyes find his, looking for any indication of what is about to happen, but all I see is reassurance. But reassurance for what?
“Hey, Ev,” Zeke greets me as he approaches me with open arms.
“Hi, Zeke,” I reply, sliding off the barstool I was perched on to wrap my arms around him.
A throat clears behind Zeke as we pull away, and I come face-to-face with the asshole again. “Let’s head into my office, Evan, and we can discuss why Scotch asked you down here.”
He doesn’t even wait for my reply before he’s already walking back through that fucking door. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down before I follow. The dickishness makes me want to stab him in the eye. I sure as fuck don’t like being ordered around, unless it’s in the bedroom.
“Take a seat.” The asshole motions to the chairs in front of his desk that he’s already sitting behind. Zeke takes the chair beside mine as I angle myself so I can look at both of them, waiting for someone to explain why I’m even fucking here.
“Scotch has told me you may be able to help us out of the bind our club has found ourselves in,” the asshole says as he looks me over, almost like he can’t quite believe he’s saying this to me.
“Scotch?” I let out a laugh while looking over at Zeke. He isn’t laughing. Oh, it’s like that? Okay, then. No jokes about his little nickname. “What kind of bind?” I’m one hundred percent not in the business of helping random guys out of binds. Zeke alone? Sure. But a whole fucking MC? No way.
“First, I need to know if what Scotch says about you being trustworthy is true. Our club doesn’t hurt women, but if you double-cross us or fuck up in any way, we’ll make you fucking pay for it. Got me?”
I jerk back as if he slapped me. “Got you? I don’t know you, dude. And I sure as hell never agreed to do you any favors. I think Zeke, or Scotch, or whatever the fuck you guys call him, left a few key details out when he called me asking to help him out. I was under the impression this was just about him alone.”
Something moved behind the asshole's eyes. Surprise with a little admiration? It’s gone as fast as it came. “Fair enough.”
“I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t serious, Ev. We could really use your help.”
I have to be the last resort if they’re asking me. Do I want to even do this? I love Zeke, but I don’t know if I want to be associated with a club. Or, I try it out, and if things are becoming too much, I back out. He would understand, right? Letting out a long sigh as my shoulders slump in defeat, I say, “Alright, tell me what you need, and I’ll weigh out my options and see if I can even help.”
The asshole nods his head. “A shipment of ours got jacked earlier. We can come up with the cash to cover what was stolen from us, but it’s not going to fly with the other…party once they find out it was stolen. We’ve been trying to keep the peace with everyone, and I’d like it to stay that way.”
“So, how exactly do I fall into this?” I inquire. Why would they think I could help at all with something that was stolen?
“I want you to sell us some weed so it looks like nothing happened to what we were transporting. It will buy us some time to figure out what the fuck is going on.”
Well, that definitely wasn’t what I was expecting to have been stolen. “Exactly how much are we talking?”
“Five hundred pounds.”
And that is when I burst out laughing. Full-on belly roll laughing. This dude can’t be serious. That’s like a million dollars worth of weed. “That’s a good one, dude. Sorry, but I can’t help you,” I get out as soon as I can breathe.
“I’m not fucking joking,” the asshole bites out as he crosses his arms on his desk and leans forward.
“Look, Prez, she doesn’t mean it as an insult. Evan isn’t from our world, man,” Zeke chimes in.
Oh, so he is serious.
“Can you help us out or not? Scotch made it sound like you two are basically family, and where I come from, family helps each other. Not laugh in their fucking face when they come asking.”
That had me sitting up straight and glaring. He can’t be serious. He has no clue where I came from and what I would do for Zeke. The goddamn nerve on this fucking dude. Zeke rests one hand on my thigh, clearly sensing my need to rip this asshole a new asshole. The asshole’s eyes dart to Zeke’s hand on my thigh and narrow into tiny slits. Honestly, what is happening? He clearly hates me as much as I hate him, but he almost seems more pissed off that Zeke is touching me.
“First of all, I don’t like what you’re implying. I would do anything to help Zeke. I’m just not so sure if getting involved with all of this mess is something I need. The last thing I want is a crazy fucking psycho getting wind that I’m helping you guys out, and then I have him making demands at my door.” Holding the asshole’s eyes, I continue, “Second, I definitely know for a fact I don’t have that much ready to rock n’ roll right now.”
I make sure I keep eye contact with him across his desk. Isn’t that what they tell you to do with a rabid dog? If you break eye contact first, it shows you’re weak. His muscular tattooed hand comes up to stroke his neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard, thinking over what I just said.
“I can probably buy us some time. How long are you thinking until you have what we need?”
Oh fuck. I wasn’t expecting him to counter. “Um…. I don’t really know off the top of my head. I need to go home and look everything over before I can give you a definite answer.”
Seeming somewhat satisfied with that, he stands up and holds out his hand that’s covered in a skull tattoo for me to shake. “You do that, and we’ll be in touch very shortly.”
As soon as my hand touches his, I feel this little spark. And trust me, I know it sounds fucking stupid. I can’t help but think what those large, calloused hands would feel like rubbing over my whole body. My eyes lock with his, watching as they flare with the same heat that I know is in mine.
“Sure,” I say before ripping my hand away and bee-lining it for the door with Zeke calling after me.
What in the fuck just happened?