Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
KALANI
Coochie was right. The Stinky Dog was closed. I didn’t have to call to find out. When Beaver turned on my phone, numerous text messages and voicemails came through, and one was from Everly telling me they were closing the bar for the next two days, maybe longer.
When I finished looking through my messages, I asked, “Do I have to leave my phone with you?”
Beaver nodded.
I frowned. “I might have a problem.”
“Fucking hell,” Sugar groaned. “What problem?”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I said and looked at Beaver when I answered. “I still have the high bid on an item I really want. The listing ends tonight, but I won’t know if someone places a higher bid without my phone.”
Beaver moved to the side and gestured to his keyboard. “Pull up the listing. I’ll watch it for you.”
“Really?” I asked excitedly. “Thank you! It ends at midnight. I’ve been the only person to bid so far, but that doesn’t mean anything. Somebody could wait until the last minute and steal it from me. Here it is.”
Beaver looked at the screen and laughed. “Fuck yes! I’ll make sure you get it.”
“What is it?” Sugar asked.
“A handmade resin butthole keychain,” I said excitedly. “In light brown.”
He gave me that look again—the one that said he thought I was insane. I don’t know what it was, but I really enjoyed seeing that look on his face. Maybe even loved it.
“All right. Now that Beaver is watching your butthole, let’s go downstairs and get something to eat.”
“How will I know if someone bids against me?” I asked.
“I’ll text Sugar,” Beaver said.
“You’ll be my booty messenger?”
“Fuck me,” he grumbled. “Yes, fine. Can we go? I’m fucking hungry.”
“There’s a word for that.”
“Don’t you dare say hangry.” He stopped and turned around. “Don’t say it, whisper it, yell it, or communicate it in any way.”
I nodded and waited for him to resume walking down the stairs. “Don’t need to after your beautiful demonstration.”
Downstairs, Sugar gave us a brief tour of the clubhouse before leading us to a table and instructing us to sit. By brief tour, I mean he pointed out the bathrooms and the kitchen. “You don’t need to go anywhere else,” he said.
“Well, thank you, kind sir. Whatever would we do without you telling us what to do,” I said mockingly. “That drop of respect goes both ways.”
Sugar glared at me.
Fuck, he was hot when he was pissy.
“You have to earn that,” he said, repeating my words.
“Oh, good! You listen.”
A woman suddenly appeared by our table and gasped. “Birdie!”
“Charli!” Birdie said and jumped up to hug her.
Charli stepped back and wiped tears from underneath her eyes. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
“I didn’t think you would either,” Birdie said.
“I wish things could have been different. I think we would’ve been great friends.”
“Me, too,” Birdie said. “But I had two little boys at home. Getting shot scared me.”
“It scared me too,” Charli said. “I didn’t go back to Liquid Anarchy for years after that night. I still don’t go over there very much.”
Sugar whistled loudly, causing the room to fall silent. “Prospects! Food,” he bellowed and pointed to our table. When he noticed everyone looking at him, he shrugged. “I can’t leave her, and I’m fucking hungry.”
Bean materialized out of nowhere and appeared beside Sugar. “How is it?” he asked quietly.
“Been better,” Sugar grumbled.
Bean nodded. “Thought so. You’re limping.”
“Fuck,” Sugar breathed.
“You want something?”
“Fuck yes, but I can’t have anything good while I’m responsible for her. It’ll be fine if I stay off it for a while. If not, Slit’s pain strain helps.”
Sugar looked up and caught me eavesdropping. “So, how did you two meet?” I asked, ignoring the obvious.
“We met in prison,” Sugar said.
“How stereotypical. Or is it cliché? Either way, I think you two have the most boring meet-cute at this table.”
“A what-what?” Bean asked.
“Do not engage,” Sugar said. “Just nod like an NPC.”
“A what?”
“A non-player character,” I answered. “And a meet-cute is a cute or funny story about how two people met.”
“Every meeting isn’t cute or funny,” Sugar said.
“They are if you make them. For example, if you asked me how I met Birdie, I could say, ‘She’s my grandmother,’ or I could say, ‘She wrapped me in a warm towel after I was pushed out of a water balloon completely naked in a room full of strangers.’ The last one sounds much better, doesn’t it?”
Bean nodded. “I see what you mean. Okay, Sugar saw a guy about to shiv me from the back. He kicked the shit out of him and fucked up his knee. We’ve been friends ever since.”
“Aw, you big old softy,” I teased.
“I need food or weed,” Sugar said. “I can’t take any more unless I have food or weed.”
I poked out my bottom lip. “Boo hiss piss.”
Sugar opened his mouth, likely to explode, but promptly closed it because our food had arrived.
“Thank fuck,” he groaned and dove into his meal.
I took a bite of mine and glanced at Birdie beside me. She’d been completely consumed with Charli and Coochie. I tried to join their conversation once, but none of the names they said sounded familiar. Even if they had, I couldn’t have gotten a word in edgewise between the three of them.
I turned my attention back to Bean. “What were you inside for?”
Bean coughed, seeming to have swallowed wrong.
“Sorry, I thought this was one of those deals where it wasn’t rude for me to ask because I did a stretch too.”
“It’s fine,” Bean said. “But my story would be better at another time.”
That piqued my interest and made it hard not to push him for more, so I turned my attention to Sugar. “What about you?”
“Involuntary manslaughter,” he said with a mouthful of food.
“Involuntary,” I snorted. “Wuss.”
Bean sucked in a sharp breath as Sugar straightened in his seat.
“You clearly weren’t paying attention when I gave an example of how to better tell a story.”
He put his fork down and looked at me. “My younger brother asked me to drop some shit off to a friend of ours. She was a regular client of his and lived near me. We talked in front of my car. I gave her her shit, and she gave me his money. All captured on my dash cam, which was confiscated when I was arrested two days later. The dope was bad. She was found dead the next morning. Oh, plot twist, my brother set me up.”
“Why?” I asked.
Sugar sighed. “Because he wanted her, and she wanted me.”
“What?” I asked in disbelief. “He killed the girl he liked and set you up for murder because she liked you?”
Sugar nodded. “Wasn’t the first time that happened, but he wanted to make sure it was the last.”
“Hold on,” I said and slapped my hand on the table. “It wasn’t the first time?”
“It wasn’t the first time a girl was interested in me instead of him,” he clarified.
“Oh, good,” I said. “For a second there, I thought you were stupid.”
Bean laughed so hard he coughed.
“Are you causing trouble?” Birdie asked.
“Not on purpose. They aren’t used to my bluntness.”
“He’s not,” Sugar said. “I’ve had more than enough exposure.”
“That hurts a little.” I gently rubbed my chest. “Right here.”
“Bullshit. You don’t have a heart.”
“Do you want to play pool with us?” Birdie asked, ignoring our dramatics.
“Who’s us?”
“Me, Coochie, Charli, and Bean.”
“I’ll sit this one out.” I nodded at Sugar. “His leg hurts.”
Birdie grinned. “Be good.”
“I promise,” I said as they got up to leave.
“Hah,” Sugar laughed. “You shouldn’t lie to your grandmother.”
“I didn’t. I’ll be good or be good at being bad. No lie was told,” I said and stuck out my tongue.
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
He was fun to annoy, but I didn’t want to push him too far, so I changed the subject. “What helps your leg?”
He shrugged. “Rest. Maybe some weed.”
“I’m down for weed and a nap.”
He watched me for several seconds. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“I do not accept responsibility for your emotions.”
“Never mind. We’ll stay here.”
I was fucking exhausted and really wanted to sleep, so I conceded. “Fine. I’ll do my best to keep my actions from possibly leading you to develop future feelings of regret.”
He shook his head and got to his feet. “Let’s go.”
We stopped by the pool table so I could let Birdie know where I was going. “Hang on a sec,” she said. “Coochie thought we might be stuck here for a few days because of the weather, so I packed some clothes for you. They’re in the truck.”
“I’ll have a prospect get her clothes and bring them to my room,” Sugar said. “Just give your keys to Coochie.”
“He already has them,” Birdie said.
I looked at her skeptically.
“What? You know I didn’t drive here in all that mess.”
“Mm-hmm,” I said and leaned in to hug her. “I might sleep until morning. Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yes,” Birdie laughed and kissed my cheek. “I’m having a great time catching up with old friends, and I won’t have to worry about you if you’re asleep all night.”
“If you hadn’t just rescued me from a motorcycle club, I might be offended.”
“Are you gonna be okay?” she asked quietly. “With him? You can stay in Coochie’s room with us.”
I laughed. “I stabbed him.”
“Exactly.”
“He’s had plenty of opportunities to retaliate, and he hasn’t,” I said and grinned. “Think he’ll angry-fuck me later?”
“Kalani,” she gasped. “There are some things you aren’t meant to talk about with your grandmother.”
I frowned. “Does this mean I won’t be hearing about a bumping of coochies?”
“Ignoring that,” she said. “Goodnight. I love you.”
“I love you too,” I said and turned to Sugar. “Ready?”
“That’s not the word I’d use, but we can go.”
Sugar opened the door and looked outside. “Fuck. We’re gonna get wet.”
“You guys don’t have a way to get to your rooms without going outside?” I asked in disbelief.
“We can stay here, if you’re bothered by a little water.”
“I’m fine with it. I’m just surprised this place isn’t full of hidden tunnels and secret rooms. Seems like a missed opportunity.”
“After you,” he said and opened the door.
Fuck. It was pouring rain. I took a deep breath and ran for it. Even though the breezeway and the stairs were covered, I was soaked by the time I reached his room.
He quickly unlocked his door, and I followed him inside. “Wait right here. I’ll get some towels.”
“No, I’m too wet. I’m dripping all over the floor,” I said and walked toward his bathroom.
I stopped in my tracks when he started to laugh. “Never mind. I’ll stand right here and drench your floor. Bring things to me, peasant.”
“No, you won’t,” he said and gently shoved me forward.
“Only because I’m freezing,” I said through chattering teeth and hurried to the bathroom.
After I stepped into the bathtub, he tossed me two towels. “I’ll be back.”
He returned minutes later to find me sitting on the closed toilet, wrapped in a towel, with the shower blasting hot water. “What in the hell are you doing?” he asked, sounding amused yet exasperated.
“I’m cold and I don’t have clothes,” I said simply.
“Right.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll get you something to wear until your clothes get here.”
“I’d rather wait for mine than wear a stranger’s,” I said.
“I’m a stranger?” he asked.
“I didn’t realize you meant your clothes,” I chuckled. “But, yes, I’d consider you a stranger—I know your road name and what room you stay in. That’s it.”
“You know why I went to prison.”
“I only know what you told me. That doesn’t mean it was true.”
His phone dinged.
“Your clothes are here.”
I don’t know why I followed him, but I was glad I did. When Sugar opened the door, a prospect wearing swim trunks and a full-face swim mask was standing there with a large trash bag. “Here you go,” he said and turned to leave. That’s when I noticed his flippers and doubled over laughing.
“I can see your ass,” Sugar said.
I gasped and straightened before I realized he was fucking with me. “Bastard.”
“Prude.”
I dropped my towel. “Not in the slightest.” Then I picked up the bag with my things and walked to the bathroom as haughtily as one could nakedly carrying a trash bag.
When I opened the bag, I almost squealed in delight when I saw what Birdie packed—several days’ worth of clothes and my toiletries. Nap first. Shower second. Things were finally looking up.
Once dressed, I found Sugar sitting at his kitchen table rolling a blunt. “Is that the pain strain you mentioned earlier?”
“You have no shame, do you? Or is it self-preservation?”
I shrugged. “If you didn’t want me to hear your conversation, you shouldn’t have had it in front of me.”
“Yes, this is the pain strain.”
“I’ll take your blatant ignoral of my valid point as silent acceptance.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he groaned and walked to the sliding glass door that led to a covered balcony.
I scrunched my nose. “No thanks. It’s not worth getting soaked again.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, sliding the door open. Then he lit the blunt and stood inside as he smoked it.
“Why are you like this?” I asked.
His eyes widened comically for a brief second before he choked on the smoke he was inhaling. “Me?” he asked incredulously. “That’s cute.”
I flashed him an obnoxious smile and reached for his blunt. “Thanks.”
“Take it easy with that,” he said. “It’s too much for some people.”
“I can assure you, they’ve yet to make a weed that was too much for me.”
He laughed. “That tracks.”
“We should use this time to unstranger you,” I said. “Give me all the deets.”
“I will take the weed away if you keep talking like that.”
“Fine,” I huffed. “Tell me some stuff so you’re no longer a stranger.”
“I haven’t used my legal first name since I left prison, so as far as you or anyone else is concerned, my name is Sugar Kane.
I’m thirty-three years old, and I’ve been a patched member of the Kings of Anarchy for seven years.
I like to take long walks on the beach before I kill someone.
Then I like to clean up and end the day with a good, hard fuck. ”
I blinked at him. “I honestly don’t know if you’re lying about your name, but I’m lowkey judging you if it really is Sugar Kane and you chose not to lie about it.”
“Why do I care if you’re judging me?”
“Why do you think I care if you care?” I retorted. “I’m the judge, meaning I only care about my opinion.”
He stuck his fingers in his ears. “La, la, la! I can’t hear you!”
I waited until he unplugged his ears. “Is this weed too much for you?”
“How many people have tried to kill you?” he asked.
I laughed. “Less than you’d think, but I have had more than one boyfriend suddenly develop a strangulation kink.”