Acorn narrows his eyes. Christ, next he’ll be throwing punches at Pants. Actually, I’d pay good money to see that. Pants will permanently knock the attitude out of him in one hit.
“Come on. Let’s get you out of here.” I nudge Shelby toward my bike.
I need to know she’s somewhere safe before I deal with whatever’s going on here.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Shelby
My heart won’t stop its frantic hammering as I climb on the bike behind Rooster.
He revs the engine a few times, nods to Acorn and Jiggy, then takes off.
I squeeze him tight the whole ride.
At the clubhouse, he’s eager to rush me inside but I dig in my heels, forcing him to stop his ruthless pace.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I need to talk to you for a second.” I’m still so rattled from what happened, my hands won’t stop shaking.
Concern darkens his features and he rests his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I never want you in the middle of any of that.”
“Does it happen a lot?” I remember hearing about turf wars between clubs all the time back home. Quite a few made the headlines. Witnessing one firsthand is a whole different experience.
“Not a lot. But it happens.”
“And now what?”
His gaze shifts to the side. “We’ll have a talk with them. Find out if anyone else from their club’s riding through here. I’ll chat with ‘em about those Texas rockers too.”
“Are ‘talk’ and ‘chat’ your gentle way of saying ‘execute’ and ‘bury’?”
He snorts but there isn’t a lot of humor in the sound. “No, chickadee. Can’t speak to Pony’s plans, but mine revolve around actual conversation. I’m a communicator, not a killer.” His lips quirk. “Most of the time, anyway.”
Holy hell. How do I interpret that?
His jaw twitches as if he’s carefully considering his next words. “When we met I was in Texas doing business with other clubs.”
“Right.” How could I forget the giant ranch way outside San Antonio and all the bikers? Although, at the time, it looked like more of an outdoor orgy than a business meeting.
“Well, our alliance with them is important. Handling this strengthens those relationships for my club.”
“Would they do the same for the Lost Kings?”
His mouth curves up. “Fuck, I love you for asking that question.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” He runs his hand over his beard a few times. “I like to think they would. Either way, I’ll do it because it’s the right thing. What they do is up to them.”
While Rooster’s moral compass for doing the right thing might be skewed, I respect him for wanting to do what he thinks is right, even if it’s not easy. “Please, be careful.”
“I will.” He glances at the clubhouse doors. “You mind hanging out here a bit with Heather?”
Rooster’s question seems normal enough but his expression is all apologies.
Last thing I want to do is stress him out more than he already is, even if I’d rather gargle with glass than be trapped with one of his exes. At least this one hasn’t thrown off crazy mean-girl vibes like Ashley. “Yup. We’ll be fine.”
He walks inside with me, stopping to talk to three prospects who’ve been tasked with staying here to look after us.
Jiggy meets us by the bar. “You all right, songbird?”
“I’ll be fine as long as you guys take care of yourselves.”
“You’re really worried about me?” he asks in a more serious way than I’d expect from him since he enjoys being such a prankster.
“Of course I am.”
“Thanks, Shelby.”
I reach up and give him a quick hug. “You two look out for each other.”
“You know it.”
Rooster watches our innocent embrace with a blank expression, then pulls me in for a long, reassuring kiss. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
My heart’s lodged in my throat as they meet Acorn at the door and walk outside.
A few seconds later their bikes start up and roar out of the parking lot.
My gaze scans the main room. Heather’s busy talking to one of the club girls who’d been dogging me earlier.
Will I be totally rude if I hang out at the bar by myself? Probably.
I take my sweet time searching for a glass behind the bar, then poke around until I find some ice, and the seltzer water.
I’m so dang worried about Rooster. Underneath my fear, I’m trying to be an adult about the situation I’m in, but I’m not thrilled about hanging out with someone my boyfriend used to screw. Even if she seems nice.
Also, why the hell did her husband feel the need to pick a fight with Rooster, earlier? Is Heather carrying a torch for Rooster and her husband knows it? Or is her husband one of those nuts threatened by any man from his wife’s past?
She did seem interested in my music, so maybe we can discuss that and steer clear of conversation involving my man and their shared history.
“Just so you know, things around here aren’t always crazy like today.” Heather approaches the bar and pulls out a stool.
Hiding at the bar time is over. I set down my glass and aim the soda gun, fill it to the top and add a few wedges of lime to it before answering her. “I guess until today, I’d only seen the fun parts.”
“They had to do it, though. If they ignored another club showing that level of disrespect, next thing you know, every club within a day’s ride will show up to challenge us.”
“Well, they shot first, so I understand.” Although I’m not sure I really do. I mean, how does one particular club own the roads? And how is flinging bullets more sensible than talking it out? “I remember hearin’ about stuff like that back home.”
“You’re from Texas, right?”
For some reason, the question brings on a wave of longing for home. My mouth curves into a bittersweet smile. Growing up, I couldn’t wait to get out of Texas. How can I finally be on the road living my dream and feelin’ homesick? “Born and bred.”
“How’d you and Rooster meet?” She frowns, as if this question’s been burning her tongue all day. “He’s all the way up in New York now.”
Cool, she knows how maps work. “He was visiting with the club.” While I know she’s part of the Lost Kings too, I’m not sure how much of that visit I should share with her, so I keep the explanation vague.
“He always had a case of wanderlust. I mean, most of the guys do, but he was always talking about leaving here and exploring the country.”
Seems Rooster and I have all sorts of things in common.
The wistful expression on her face triggers a bunch of questions. Did she want him to invite her along on those adventures? Were they planning to explore the open road together before her dad ended things for them?
Cautious of where our conversation might be headed, I nod. “Sounds right. He’s sure made the tour a lot more fun for me.”