Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
PIGGY
I’m sitting outside the club. I know I’m not dressed for working here tonight, but I still want to go inside and check on Millie.
This whole thing with Garcia has me a bit rattled, and until I know exactly what the fuck his situation is, I can’t help but wonder if it runs deeper than just him being worried about my position with the Reapers MC.
It feels bigger.
My gaze scans the parking lot for a moment, taking in all the cars, before my brows snap together. There are a lot of cars here. A lot. More than on a usual Friday night, and it’s typically packed on Friday nights.
Flicking my attention to the main entrance, I blink at the sight. There is a line of men down the side of the building. I don’t understand what the fuck is going on. The Gilded Room is consistently busy, packed but not a line out the door, waiting-to-get-in busy.
I open the pickup door, unfold from the seat, and make my way toward the back entrance.
There’s no reason for me to go to the front and make a scene.
One of the guys at the back will let me in just as easily, and then it doesn’t matter how I’m dressed, because none of the customers will have laid an eye on me.
Goose jerks his chin at me, opening the back door to let me inside, but I don’t go in immediately. “What’s with all the people?” I ask.
“Some influencer made a post or some shit, and it’s been insanity all night.”
“Fuck,” I moan. “That’s all we need with that fucking asshole looking for Millie and being able to blend in this fucking crowd.”
“Bennet is creaming in his slacks at the amount of money being spent. So are the girls. There’s no way you’re gonna get him to shut any of this shit down.”
“Yeah,” I grunt. “I figure that. Heading inside. Let me know if you see anything.”
“Will do,” Goose murmurs. “And, Piggy?” he calls out.
I’m halfway down the hall, so I stop and turn to face him. Jerking my chin in his direction, I wait for him to continue. His brows knit together before he speaks again.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Glad you finally claimed Millie as your old lady. Welcome to the ball-and-chain club, brother.” His lips curve up into a shit-eating grin.
I flip him off before I spin back around and continue walking toward the main area of the club. All the while, I can hear Goose laughing behind me like he’s the funniest fucking human on earth.
The music is loud. The chatter and drink glasses clanging and banging are almost louder. I know everyone is absolutely loving the money that’s flowing tonight, but I can’t help but feel uneasy about it all.
Then my phone rings. I feel it buzzing in my pocket. I take it out, glance at the Caller ID, and frown.
Ivy.
That was fast. I move back down the hallway, where it’s a bit quieter. Sliding my thumb across the screen, I close my eyes as I state my name as my greeting. I have no idea what this phone call is going to entail, but I can already feel I’m not going to like it.
Not a single fucking bit.
“It took a little digging,” Ivy begins. “But Garcia’s father was a Bloodbound MC member. Might be why he hates the Reapers so goddamn much.”
“Might be,” I state. “He acted like he hated all MCs, though. Which is why I find this interesting, to say the least.”
“He probably doesn’t hate all MCs, just us, because we pretty much eradicated that whole goddamn club,” Ivy says.
I wince at his words. He’s right. We did do that. My head falls back slightly, bouncing against the wall as I close my eyes. I’m not sure what the fuck kind of shit storm this will bring down on me.
As much as I want to pretend that I don’t give a fuck, I very much do. This is my career, and I’ve devoted seventeen years of my life to it.
“What do I do?” I ask.
I’m being completely honest, too. I don’t know what the fuck to do about this. Garcia was probably never affiliated with the Bloodbounds. It was likely just his father. And I was probably the fuck who killed him.
“You’re going to continue with life as is and worry about Millie and her safety. That’s what you’re going to do. The rest, let me do some more poking around, but stay away from that fuck if you can.”
“I plan on it,” I grind out.
Ending the call, I shove my phone back in my pocket before I turn my head and open my eyes. At that exact moment, Millie appears, dressed in her gold bikini thing and gold glitter all over her body. Her hair is big, red, and fucking gorgeous.
“You don’t look happy,” she murmurs as she continues to approach.
When she’s close enough, I reach out and haul her ass against my side. She wriggles, shifting in front of me. She places her hands on my shoulders, her head tilted back, and when her eyes meet mine, whatever the fuck I was worried about melts away.
“I’m happy now,” I murmur.
Without another word, I lift my hands to her hair, needing to sink my fingers into the strands, gripping her tightly. I lower my head and touch my mouth to hers, slipping my tongue inside to taste her fully and wholly.
Just like she should always be kissed.
MILLIE
The Gilded Room was not only a vibe tonight, but it was also buzzing.
Completely and totally buzzing. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I start to pack my duffel bag.
I am exhausted. I can’t remember the last time I danced this much.
Maybe on a wild night in Vegas, but even then, I wasn’t a star or anything.
I was just a dancer. Here, I’m kind of the headliner, which is still hard for me to believe.
“Are you good?” a woman’s voice calls out.
I look up to see Anna standing in the doorway. Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles. “It was a good night,” she says.
“It was.”
I’m a bit confused as to why she’s standing in front of the doorway saying this. Hesitantly, I take one step toward her, then another before I stop, because she makes no move to get out of my way. She’s looking at me funny. I don’t understand her expression at all. I can’t read her right now.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
She presses her lips together, silently watching me, then she clears her throat and shakes her head once. I wait for whatever it is that is clearly on her mind. I stay quiet, patiently waiting for her to continue so I can go home.
“Anna?” I ask when she continues to just stare at me.
She takes another step forward, stopping again before she finally speaks. “They really loved you out there.”
“I guess,” I murmur.
I’m sure I sound just as confused as I appear watching her, wondering what the fuck she’s thinking and where she’s going with this. Is she jealous? I can’t imagine why. It’s not like she’s a dancer.
She dips her chin slightly. Her gaze never leaves mine as she does. I start to ask her where she’s going with this, but thankfully, she doesn’t make me wait, or unthankfully, I’m not sure which.
She leans forward, her eyes focused and intent on my own, and when she finally speaks, a chill of dread and fear slides down my spine. I’m afraid that by coming here, I’ve walked right into the lion’s den.
“You need to get the hell out,” she hisses.
Gone is her normal, stern yet caring tone. This is different. It’s almost scary, a warning that I don’t understand. I’m not sure how to proceed. Half of me wants to rush past her and get the fuck out of this room. The other half wants to know where she’s going with this.
“What?” I ask. “What does that mean?”
“It means you need to get the fuck out of this club. And Raleigh. Pack your shit and go.”
“Can you explain yourself?” I all but demand, my knees trembling, because the only thing I can think of is that he’s found me.
“I told you I don’t like bikers. None of them. What I like less are mobsters, and there’s one poking his nose around here looking for you. What the fuck did you do in Vegas?”
Shaking my head once, I take a step backward. Oh my god. He’s here. “What was his name?” I demand. I know what she’s going to say before she says it.
“Dante Barone.”
I close my eyes slowly, then open them again. “Where is he?”
“Gone tonight, as far as I know. He wasn’t here for long before I had him ushered out.
Girl, you have to protect yourself, and he’s after you.
But I have to protect my girls, and as scary as those bikers are, they did a good job tonight.
I don’t want anyone to get hurt, and that asshole is going to hurt the girls.
I can sense it. I know bad men, and he’s bad. ”
“Yes, he is,” I agree with her words. Dante is beyond scary and a very bad man.
“Don’t come back tomorrow,” she hisses, “or for the next few weeks.”
Only then does she step aside to allow me to pass. I walk through the door and head straight for the back of the club. Goose is there, waiting to walk me to my car. I glance around to see if Axton’s pickup or bike is anywhere in the parking lot.
They’re not.
“You good?” Goose asks as I stand next to my vehicle.
Turning my head, I look over at him. I try to give him a smile, but it’s shaky at best. “I’m good,” I lie.
“Piggy said he would meet you at your place.”
“Thanks,” I murmur. “I hope you had a good first night.”
His lips twitch into a smirk. “I’m a married man, so I wasn’t sure if this was going to be something I wanted any part of,” he says. “But it was busy, and it was a fun time.”
I laugh softly. “I’m glad it wasn’t too seedy.”
“Not at all,” he chuckles with a wink. “Didn’t even see a single pair of tits, something my wife will be happy about.”
He tugs the car door open for me, and I burst out laughing as I sink down in the seat. He bends down slightly, his gaze searching mine, and I can see the concern in his features. I’m not sure if he knows something I don’t, but I don’t ask him.
“You want me to follow you home?”
Shaking my head a couple of times, I clear my throat. “Go home to your wife, Goose.”
He winks. “Hope to see you at the clubhouse soon.”
I almost laugh. “The clubhouse?” I ask. “Not likely.”
He wears a confused expression on his face as his gaze searches mine for a long moment in silence, then he clears his throat. “But you’re Piggy’s old lady, claimed and everything.”
I can feel the color drain from my face.
Claimed?
What the fuck?