The room fell silent and I thought Chops’ head was going to blow through the fucking roof. That prospect had some serious balls, and I liked that. I respected balls.
It was the one thing Chops didn’t have.
“He’s got a point,” Brooks said.
Chops turned his anger toward him and away from Finn, which I assumed was Brooks’ point. He’d always been the cavalier one. The one to put himself in harm’s way to save someone else’s ass. That was the kind of man that needed to be President of a crew like this. A crew like ours needed a president with a heart.
Not a president without one.
“Anyway,” Chops said as he turned back toward the other guys, “I’m meeting with the head of the Black Flags this afternoon to work out the basis of the deal. Once I have it, I’ll call another meeting and we can discuss it before moving forward.”
Archer stepped into the circle. “Need some back-up?”
Chops shook his head. “Nah, I got it this time. Maybe next time, though, if this starts to get heated.”
Figures, fucking two-faced dickweed.
After the church meeting came to a close, I stormed out of the clubhouse. I didn’t know what pissed me off more—the fact that Chops was openly advertising the fact that he was meeting up with the gang he was conspiring against us with, or the fact that he thought he could lie to us. He wasn’t meeting up with them about fucking car parts and them undercutting our prices. Oh, no. I knew exactly what that slimy snake was up to.
And I didn’t want to stand in the same zip code with him, much less the same room.
I didn’t bother with my helmet as I threw my leg over my bike. I pulled my engraved flask out of the breast pocket of my leather jacket and took a swig from it. The whiskey burned going down and it made me shake my head, but damn it, the stuff woke me up.
Then, I took off riding.
The entire ride, though, I smelled that whiskey. Every time I exhaled, the scent slapped me in the face. I didn’t get five miles into my stress-free ride before I pulled off to the side of the road. I felt grounded, strong, and better than I had in a long time. Except that whiskey kept tempting me from my breast pocket and the smell on my own breath stirred needs within my gut that I knew I needed to steer clear of.
That’s why you lost her.
I closed my eyes as memories of Astrid bombarded my mind. Her strawberry blonde hair that curled up like wet beach hair. Her hazel eyes that sparkled with the colors of the forest in the moonlight. Her sloping curves rounded with muscles underneath that she painstakingly kept up in the gym.
“Damn it, I miss her,” I whispered.
As my eyes opened, I thought back to how we first met. Astrid and I encountered one another when Brooks and myself were only prospects. And the first thing Brooks ever made me promise him in our years-long friendship was that I wouldn’t touch his sister.
No matter what.
And while I took that promise seriously, that didn’t stop me from staring. It didn’t stop me from dreaming about her at night. It didn’t stop me from growling her name every time I stroked my cock whenever it woke me up at night. She was a beautiful woman inside and out. Intelligent, sassy, head-strong, stubborn as fuck, and gorgeous to boot. She was perfect in every way for me.
Except for being Brooks’ sister.
When he went off to prison, I took it upon myself to watch over her. To watch out for her and make sure she didn’t need anything. But when she moved away from Santa Cruz altogether, I learned to bury my crush. And it wasn’t until later on during a visit I had with Brooks that I figured out my drinking was a massive no-no for her.
Guess it reminded her of their mother or some shit.
Either way, I never could get her out of my head. I never could get her out of my dreams. And as I stared at the flask in my hand that I’d pulled out of my breast pocket, I uncapped the top and took another massive gulp.
Maybe if I drank enough, it would drown out her memory for good.
Two
Astrid
Honk honk! “Get the fuck out of the way, you fat ass!”
Honk honk! “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”
Honk honk honk! “Shit or get off the pot, asshole!”
I rolled my eyes as I pulled my rinky dink car off to the side of the road. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but I hated being rushed first thing in the morning. It was why I left my apartment forty-five minutes before I was supposed to be at work. Then I could take my time getting coffee, battling traffic, and sitting at red lights for far too long without actually being late.
Except this morning, it seemed as if everyone were running behind but me.
“Anyone think of planning ahead?” I murmured to myself.
I watched as a parade of middle fingers went by, flicking me off for not stomping on my gas pedal a fraction of a second before I had. I hated being the first to go at a green light. If I didn’t stomp on that gas pedal two seconds before the light actually changed colors, a symphony of horns honked in my general direction. What the hell did they think I was, anyway? Some sort of medium? Did they think I was psychic? Like I could predict the fucking future?
I rolled my window down. “Fucking clit lickers!”
Another horn honked at me and I flicked them off while taking a massive sip of my iced coffee. Cold coffee and creamer was all I needed to get my day started, and when I began chugging, I didn’t stop until I slurped up all the creamy goodness that settled to the bottom of my cup. I drew in a deep breath as I eased back into traffic, hoping and praying I’d get to work without another slew of curses being thrown in my general direction.
I wasn’t so lucky, though.
God, I’m getting tired of Los Angeles.
After I pulled into the music studio I rented by the hour in order to work, I made my way inside. With my hands full of my voice-over equipment, I unlocked the door and quickly got to work. The quicker I could get things done, the less money I’d have to foot over in hourly rent.
If I had my own room, I could save close to a grand a month.
I snorted with laughter before I sat in my chair. A soundproof room? In the middle of L.A.? I wasn't sure who the hell I had to suck off to make that happen, but I sure as hell didn’t have the money for that. I mean I wasn’t hurting for money, but I didn’t make that kind of money doing voice-overs for video games. I’d done a few guest appearances in cartoons and animated movies, but nothing that ended up giving me recurring work. Still, it got my name out there enough for me to branch into the newest wave of voice-over recording artistry.
Books.
I pulled out the book I had been hired to start on and wrinkled my nose at the cover. I certainly wasn’t a high fantasy person, but apparently the author of the book “loved the sassy lilt in my voice” for her main character. I pulled out eight pages worth of instructions from the author that I had to peruse before creating the voices of all the characters in the books. And the more I read the list, the more I grew frustrated with myself.
I didn’t even need the fucking rented booth for my work today.
“Of course,” I sighed.
I packed my things up and called the owner of the studio, letting them know that I didn’t need the booth for today. I knew that would lose me the deposit I put down for the hours today, but at least I wasn’t out any more money than that. Then, I hauled ass back to my car so I could get home. The idea of curling up in bed to work today sounded amazing, especially since I had just stocked up on all my favorite snacks.