25. Kevlar
Kevlar
Getting up with the sun wasn’t Kevlar’s style.
Unless he stayed with Kelsey. He wasn’t a morning person, but he’d already overstayed his welcome.
He had no business spending the night with her again.
After wasting good money on a shitty hotel room for him and his brother, the least he could do was sleep there.
There was a perfectly acceptable bed sitting empty and waiting for him.
That was the problem, though. Wasn’t it? He’d be alone.
Kelsey wasn’t there. He slept far better on her mattress, beside her, than he did anywhere else. Shaking his head, he carefully closed the front door of her apartment as gently as possible. He didn’t want to wake her.
This had become a habit he had no business developing.
Kevlar wasn’t new to relationships. He’d dated a woman or two, but he made a point never to spend the entire night. It sent the wrong message. He wasn’t looking to settle down. He was there for a good time and not for a long time.
Except he was back in Oklahoma City permanently. He shouldn’t be shitting where he ate. Doing so made things complicated with Kelsey. Unless she moved, they’d run into each other. Which already happened.
He didn’t want messy run-ins. Though she didn’t come across as a patch whore. She wasn’t chasing him. If anything, he pursued her, so maybe she wouldn’t bring drama to his door. Well, any more of it.
His Bloody Scorpion problem would’ve happened eventually. She wasn’t responsible. The beef between the two clubs predated Kevlar. He couldn’t blame it on Kelsey.
Starting his motorcycle, Kevlar twisted the throttle, warming up his bike. While unnecessary, he loved the sound. It soothed his soul like nothing else. He couldn’t enjoy it for too long, though. He had to get out of there if he wanted to catch a few more hours of sleep before his lunch date.
With the sun cresting on the horizon, brightening the new day, he placed his feet on the foot pegs and pulled out of the parking lot.
The chirping birds were drowned out by the roar of his thundering engine.
The image of Kelsey straddling him, her hands on his chest, bouncing on his cock last night flitted through his mind.
He grinned.
A fucking fantastic memory. One that would see him through what would no doubt be another trying day. Coming home hadn’t been all that bad. Sure, the Scorpions were a pain in his ass, but at least there was a delectable and consenting woman hanging around.
If only she didn’t have that pesky Bloody Scorpion complication buzzing around her ass. She would be perfect.
After a good shit, shower, and shave—he trimmed his beard to keep it neat—Kevlar entered the restaurant with Kid, where they’d have lunch with their sisters. A good old family reunion.
Except that wasn’t what he walked in on.
Yes. His sisters were there, but they weren’t alone.
What the hell? Was this an ambush? His sisters had betrayed him. They’d chosen these dickheads over their blood. Seriously?
Kevlar’s mood soured. He wanted one day where he could sit back and relax.
The women he was related to weren’t criminally connected.
Hell, Harper was a fucking lawyer, for Christ’s sake.
Remi wanted nothing to do with anyone. If she had her way, she’d go off-grid and tinker with car parts and build rat rods for the rest of eternity.
So, he truly didn’t understand why the Ricci brothers, who formed the Dixie Mafia, were sitting at the table with his sisters.
Paul, the one dating Harper, lifted his gaze, smiled slyly, and paused their conversation. He got to his feet and extended a hand.
“Little Junior,” he greeted Kevlar using his old road name.
Sighing, Kevlar continued through the small eatery and approached the table. “I go by Kevlar now.”
“What?” Harper balked. “Like the vest?”
He nodded as he shook the hands of the two men at the table. “Sort of. Both of us have been proven to be bulletproof.”
Eddie and Paul exchanged amused expressions before returning to their seats.
Kid sat beside Remi and picked up one of the spare menus. “What’s good here?”
Kevlar lowered himself into the lone empty chair as he eyed the men from the Dixie Mafia warily. “So, what has you crashing our family lunch?”
“Your pests have infested our territory,” Eddie commented.
Kevlar raised his brows as though surprised. He wasn’t. The Scorpions were like herpes. When left unchecked, they spread.
From within his jacket, Paul pulled an envelope. “Our cousin obtained a recently filed deed.”
He extended it toward Kevlar. Now, this was what he needed. Maybe he’d judged Eddie and Paul wrong. Perhaps they weren’t as useless as they looked.
“Could you not do criminal stuff in my presence?” Harper rolled her eyes.
Kevlar slid his finger under the flap and pulled out the folded paper.
Paul slung an arm around Harper’s shoulders and kissed her temple. “Sorry, Queen. No more. I promise.”
Kevlar wouldn’t be making such claims. He was who he was. Harper knew that about him. She could pretend Paul was a better man in his expensive suits and stupid haircut, but they were the same. One just had more honest packaging.
Reviewing the document, he noted the Scorpions had purchased an old convent, or maybe it was a convalescent home. It wasn’t a bad idea for a clubhouse. It would have bedrooms, spaces for hanging out, and of course a place to hold church.
Why hadn’t he thought of that?
“We’ll look into it,” Kevlar said as he passed the paper to his brother for review. “Thank you.”
Paul dipped his chin in acknowledgment.
This would be a beneficial arrangement. Their situation seemed to be improving. With the support of the Dixie Mafia, Kevlar was as hopeful as ever that he’d be successful now that he was back home. He wouldn’t disappoint Jameson. He would redeem his name after the disaster of his father’s legacy.