I don’t know about the rest of the guys, but I could definitely use a few drinks to try and forget the dark cloud that makes me obsess about Zoe.
Why my stepsister continues to torment me, or what she expects me to do with the images of her sprawled out half-naked, and occasionally completely naked, I’m not sure. I probably won’t ever find out since she didn’t return my calls years ago, and I eventually gave up on trying to contact her.
I should throw the dirty images away, I know that. But I’m a sick son of a bitch who keeps every single page in a locked chest in my garage. Not only do I keep the magazines, I look at them all the fucking time because I still miss her like crazy.
So, while I’m used to seeing Zoe’s face and body everywhere, I never expected to see her sitting topless on a Harley behind the fucking Savage Kings’ bar.
“What the fuck?” I stomp around to the other side and rip the two-page centerfold down from the bulletin board, sending push pins flying everywhere. “Who the fuck did this?” I yell at the guys. “Was this you?” I ask Leo, who tends the bar. He vehemently shakes his head and backs away from me as I ball the pages in my fist. “Then who the hell was it? Tell me, now!”
“Dude, what’s your problem?” Cannon strolls up to the bar and asks in his annoying laidback drawl that matches his blond, surfer boy looks. “Zoe Donahue is hot as hell, ask any guy in here.”
“Oh shit,” I vaguely hear Roman mutter from his barstool before my blood pressure skyrockets, turning my entire body a dark shade of red, including my vision.
I’m considering how exactly I’m going to hurt Cannon when Roman rushes to block my way from behind the bar. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Everyone, just calm down,” our president says, holding us both at an arm’s length away since I’m about to vault over the bar to get my hands around the other man’s neck. “Cannon, apologize.”
“What? Why should I apologize?” he asks. “It’s the truth.”
“You need to apologize because Zoe Donahue is Winston’s sister!” Roman explains to him, using the words I couldn’t find in my rage.
“Oh shit,” Cannon says with a wince before he squints his brown eyes at me and smirks. “Now that you mention it, I do sort of see the resemblance, other than the tits…”
“She’s my stepsister!” I yell so loudly my throat burns.
“Apologize, Cannon. Now,” Roman demands. “We don’t hang up posters of anyone’s half-naked stepsisters in the clubhouse from now on, agreed?”
“Fine, I’m sorry, man. But I wasn’t doing it just because she’s spank bank material,” Cannon says, causing my teeth to nearly snap from the force of which I’m clenching them. “We booked Zoe for an event over at the dealership. I thought you all knew that.”
“Bullshit,” I grit out, refusing to get my hopes up. Why would she come back now, of all times?
“Seriously. She’s coming to take pics and sign autographs next weekend,” Cannon explains. “How did you not know that if you’re her family or whatever?”
“Zoe hasn’t been home in ten years. There’s no way she’s coming back just for some publicity stunt.”
“Look, man, I don’t know why she’s coming to town. I just know that she is. We got the signed contract and put her on the schedule,” Cannon says. “Our billboard of her advertising the event has been up in Conway for weeks. Haven’t you seen it?”
“I live down in Surf City and come into work from the highway. How would I see the billboard in Conway?”
“Because everyone else has! Right?” he asks. The guys standing around, silently drinking and watching our argument, give a slight nod of their heads.
“Cancel,” I order him.
“What? No way!” Cannon refuses. “It’s too late to get our deposit back and customers are expecting her! It’s the kickoff for the summer!”
“I’m your goddamn VP and I’m telling you to fucking cancel, or I’ll kill you with my bare hands!”
“Jesus!” Roman mutters. “Just…give us a minute.” He grabs me by the shoulder and escorts me into the chapel where he shuts the door behind us.
“I can’t believe this is fucking happening!” I grumble as I brace my hands on the back of my chair, too pissed to sit down. I’m not entirely sure what’s more surprising, that Zoe’s finally coming home or that she’s going to strut around in a bikini in front of hundreds of men, including my MC brothers.
“On the chance this question gets my head bit off, I still have to ask it,” Roman starts as he sits down and reclines in his seat at the head of the table. “Why are you so worked up about this, Winston? Zoe’s a grown woman and she’s been taking nude photos for years, right?”
“Yes,” I grit out.
“You don’t have to go to the event if you can’t stomach seeing her in a bikini.”
“I won’t have to worry about seeing her because you’re going to cancel it!”
“I can’t do that, and you know it,” Roman responds. “The twins have probably already spent thousands promoting the event. Cancelling could cost us customers and make people think we’re not men of our word.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I scoff at him. “Men of our word? Bit of a stretch there, prez.”
“It’s just a few hours and then it’s done. To be honest, I think you’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion.”
“How would you feel if it were your girl all the guys in town were going to get a picture taken with…a picture with her in just a skimpy bikini to jerk off to later?” I ask him.
“Now that was fucking uncalled for!” he complains, his jaw clenched tight and fists balled up on top of the table, like he wants to hit me for even suggesting such a thing.
“That right there, that rage you’re feeling, that’s how I feel about Zoe doing this!”
“Oh fuck,” Roman mutters, leaning back and slapping his palms on the table. “You’re jealous.”
“No, fuck no! I’m just…protective of her since she’s younger than me.”
“You’re about to snap the back of the chair off!” he points out. “Just admit it, this goes way beyond being a protective brother.”
“Stepbrother!” I remind him yet again. “And if I do admit that shit, then would you cancel?”
“Probably not, no,” he remarks, making me growl in frustration. “I’m just trying to figure out if this shit is what you’ve been all twisted up about for years. You’ve been a grumpy bastard since we became friends and I’ve always wondered why. It would be a relief to know if there’s a root cause and that it’s not your default asshole personality.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“Admit it,” Roman says. “You’re in love with your stepsister.”
“I’m not in love with her. I haven’t even seen her in ten goddamn years!”
“That’s the thing about love, though. Time doesn’t mean shit. It doesn’t ever stop or go away if it’s the real deal, does it?” Roman remarks.