Catch Twenty-Two Page 27
She’s clearly affected by me as well. Something that for once makes me smile. I’m no stranger to women. They flock to me wherever I go. I’m not a narcissistic asshole who thinks he’s God’s gift to women. It’s just a fact. Women find me attractive. It has its benefits. Most are looking for a good time, a story to tell their friends later about how they hooked up with the president of an MC. I generally keep my extracurricular activities closer to home, in a setting I’m more easily able to control, but every once in a while I find something that’s hard to turn down. It seems tonight is one of those nights.
“Please,” I say with a seductive rasp.
She turns quickly and saunters away. My eyes follow the sway of her hips, and I can tell she’s not doing anything to purposefully entice me, but entice me she does. I clear my throat and adjust my crotch. A quick glance at Shadow lets me know I’ve not been as nonchalant about the encounter as I would’ve hoped. He leaves it alone.
Wrench on the other hand? He doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.
“I told you she was a hot piece of ass,” he sniffs and runs his arm under his nose. Disgusting. He waggles his eyebrows in the direction she went. “I’m gonna get me a piece of that before we leave Denver.”
“Are you blind you stupid fucker?” Shadow asks. “She clearly has her sights set on Kincaid.”
Wrench pulls his attention from the petite, curvy waitress getting our beers from the bar and looks at me. His face falls when I raise my eyebrow at him.
“That’s fucked up,” he grumbles crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.
I chuckle. It’s an unspoken rule that the president gets first pick. It’s not a card I pull very often. Usually, I’m not interested in anything Wrench would want, but this fine specimen is on my radar.
Shadow laughs softly and claps Wrench on the back. “Better luck next time, man.”
I tap my fingers on the tabletop and watch her. She continues to cut her eyes to a guy sitting alone along the far wall of the bar. He’s engrossed in the game on the TV, but the way she looks over at him bothers me. I can tell she’s concerned, either about him being there or seeing something he shouldn’t.
“When are we heading out?” Shadow asks diverting my attention momentarily.
I shrug. “Day after tomorrow maybe? I wanted to stick around for a bit, make sure Kaleb doesn’t need anything before we hit the road.” I narrow my eyes thinking about the whole situation we were called into and how everything doesn’t line up like it should.
“I know that look.” I turn my head toward Shadow. “You can’t stop thinking about the leak in the department.”
I grin, only because the waitress is making her way back to us. “That’s Denver PD’s problem unless they call us in to investigate, and I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”
I watch her eyes as she hands the guys their beer and look down to take my beer from her. My face falls when it lands on the gold band on her left ring finger. She leaves as soon as she arrived.
“She’s fucking married,” I say with bitterness in my voice.
Wrench claps his hands together and rubs them vigorously like he’s won the fucking lottery. He, unlike me, doesn’t have an issue with going after married women.
“No,” I say to him. “Leave her the fuck alone.”
“But you don’t do married women,” he seethes.
“Leave her the fuck alone. I mean it, Wrench.” He narrows his eyes at me but keeps his mouth shut. He knows he’s on thin ice and better not push his fucking luck.
I tip my beer up and take a long pull, my eyes evaluating the guy across the bar. I can’t help but wonder if he’s the one who busted her lip. It’s highly likely. He looks like the type of asshole that would hit a woman. I despise men who hit women. They are the absolute scum of the earth.
Knowing I need to divert my attention away from the waitress for more than one reason, I scan the bar. My eyes land on a redhead sitting on a stool at the bar. She’s facing outward and staring right at me. From the way she’s running her tongue over and around the tip of her beer bottle, I can guarantee she’d be down for just about anything, which means she’s my kind of girl.
I wink at her to let her know I see her and go back to talking to the guys at the table.
“Kid,” I say catching his attention. “Why the sour look?”
Dustin “Kid” Andrews is the newest and youngest member of the MC. At twenty-four and having served three tours in Iraq and Afghanistan in the first four years of his adult life, he’s seen more devastation and death than most men twice his age. The great thing about Kid though is he always has a smile on his face. He always sees the bright side of things. Right now? That character smile is nowhere to be seen.
Wrench laughs and Kid shoots him daggers from across the table. “He got blue-balled last night.”
I tip my beer up, emptying it to hide the smile on my face. Wrench is cackling like the idiot he is, but Shadow has enough respect to hide his laugh behind a cough.
“Well,” I finally manage. “It’s a new night. No reason not to try again.” I turn to Shadow. “And Misty?”
Misty is the woman he’s been seeing casually since we got to Denver. She’s also the woman who called in the tip about Josie when the little girl reported a woman being held by her parents at the school Misty works at. I’m grateful for Misty, which means I’m for once grateful for Shadow’s inability to keep his dick to himself. This time, it worked in our favor.
He shrugs his shoulders noncommittally. “We’re leaving in a few days.” It’s his only explanation, and I know that’s all I’ll get from him. Shadow treats every woman he comes across like a princess, but when he’s done, he’s done. He likes to spread the love around.
I force my eyes to keep from following the waitress, but it’s appearing to be an impossibility since she’s walking toward us now. The smile she pulls from me is unintentional, but painted on my face nonetheless.
“Another round?”
“Sure,” I say just as Wrench reaches for and clasps her hand.
Her eyes sweep from their connection to me and then to the side where I assume her husband is sitting. No doubt that asshole is the one hurting her. I have to remind myself to mind my own business. I can’t save every woman. Hell, I couldn’t save the one I loved from birth, and certainly I can’t save someone who has no will to save themselves.
“Wrench,” I chide. “Leave her the fuck alone.” I keep eye contact with her when I speak, but I can tell Wrench has let her hand go.
“Thank you,” she mouths. I nod at her as she walks away.
I take a chug from my beer and glare at Wrench. “If you can’t learn how to behave in public, I’ll make sure you never join us on the road again.”
He huffs but is smart enough not to say a damn word; rather he stands and makes his way to the opposite end of the bar to the line in front of the jukebox.
“Remind me again why that fucker is still around,” I mutter to Kid and Shadow.
“You promised Socket you’d look after him,” Shadow responds.
Fucking Socket. His ass should be here right now, rather than his dumb ass brother.
I finish my second beer and stand giving the redhead near the bar the look I know she gets often. I rap my knuckles on the tabletop and head toward the restroom. Shadow laughs; Kid grumbles something about blue balls. I would laugh, but I find nothing funny about being thirty years old and walking to the bathroom of a shifty bar to get my dick sucked. As ridiculous as it is, I’m certainly not going to leave here without it happening.
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I miss the girls back at the club. I haven’t touched a woman the entire time we’ve been in Denver; I’ve spent every waking moment looking for Josie. Now that she’s been found, I can’t wait to blow down someone’s throat, and since the waitress is married to an asshole, the redhead will have to do.
I meet the redhead at the center of the bar
and drape my arm over her shoulder, turning her in the direction of the restroom sign hanging over an entryway at the back of the bar. Her hand is on my cock before we even make it five steps.
I sigh inwardly at the double standard. She’s a bar slut which makes her unappealing to me outside of this situation, but on the other hand, I’m grateful she is because it’s exactly what I need at the moment. We won’t exchange numbers; I won’t even tell her my name, and the fucked up part? She probably won’t even ask. I’d be surprised if my dick is the only one she touches tonight.
We round the corner, turning down the dark hallway, and my ears register the sound of the slap before my eyes manage to tell my brain what is going on. I see the waitress’ head swing to the side from the impact and look at the sneer on the face of the asshole that was sitting in the bar earlier; the exact one I’d assumed was her abusive asshole husband.
Fury boils over in my veins; the redhead on my side becomes inconsequential as I stride forward and punch the prick directly in his nose. The blood spray from his face isn’t satisfying enough, so I hit him again, and again. I don’t stop until he’s a whimpering puddle, crouched on the filthy floor.
I hear screaming and turn to comfort the waitress, pissed that she’s upset that I hit him, but when I turn around, it’s the redhead I was with a minute before that’s hysterical. I watch her back as she runs from the hallway. I turn my attention to the waitress who is leaning against the wall with a hand clamped over her injured cheek.
“You okay?” I ask taking slow, measured steps in her direction.
She pulls her eyes from the man on the floor to mine and then back down to him. I see the fear the second it hits her face, and I hold my hands up and take a step back. I’m pissed that she’d be afraid of me too but understanding of the situation.
“I’m not going to hurt you, darlin’.” I drop my hands to my side and attempt a casual, non-threatening pose, which is a chore because of my size and build.
Without taking her eyes from him, she says, “He’ll kill me for sure now.”
She raises her eyes to mine at the growl that came unbidden from deep in my throat. “He won’t have the chance.”
I reach for her and guide her by her elbow to the rear exit off of the dark hallway we’re standing in. She seems dazed, and I look over at her wondering how much damage he caused when he struck her. The cool night air that hits us seems to pull her from her trance.
“Wh… what are you doing?” She asks as the door to the bar and the noise of the jukebox closes behind us.
“Getting you out of here,” I tell her and point to my bike parked near the street. “Get on.” I swing my leg over the seat, hit the kickstand with the back of my boot, and wait impatiently as she stands there looking at me like she’s never seen a man on a bike before.
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