Viking wraps his arm around Princess, effectively tucking her into his side. “You stay close, Cinderella. I need to talk business with their prez, and I want you to stick with Torch or Blaze.”
She rolls her eyes. It’s where Viking learned the gesture from, that I’m sure of. “I’ll behave. You know I won’t stir up shit since they’re friends of the club.”
Blaze snorts. “Sure, P. When you’re feeling froggy, you fuckin’ jump. Doesn’t matter where we are or who we’re around.”
She shrugs, not perturbed in the slightest. It’s the truth, though, Viking and Princess are both territorial as hell, and if they feel threatened in any way, shit goes down. It’s happened multiple times in the past, and we’ve been banned from our share of bars because of those two. Bethany and Nightmare aren’t much better. Bethany has a bad habit of punching women who come on to Nightmare. It’s always something going down with this bunch.
Frost struts alongside me, pleased as punch he’s finally got his patch. He’s done his time as a prospect, he’s earned his patch, and we’re happy to have another brother in the fold. “Any other chicks here besides the bartender?”
I nod. “Sure, they’ve got club whores.”
“Nah, not a whore.”
I frown. “Don’t knock them, brother, you never know what their story is,” I defend, thinking of how many times Cherry had cried over Odin. She had a rough life. She didn’t just grow up aspiring to be a club whore, it’s the life she was dealt. She’s still a damn good woman with a kind heart. Frost shouldn’t overlook any of the club whores or treat them differently than a woman on the street. They offer up free pussy, but they still deserve the respect any other human does until it’s proven otherwise.
He puts his hands up in surrender and lets the conversation drop. As long as he’s respectful to Hollywood, then I don’t care who he hooks up with in the RBMC—it’s none of my business. If he starts macking on my bartender, though, we’ll have a come-to-Jesus moment.
We get inside, and Hollywood’s already popping bottles and setting them on the bartop for us. I’ve been around her enough to tell something’s off with her. My brothers try to engage in conversation with her, and she flat-out ignores them. I’m used to her cold shoulder, and I don’t want to change her or anything, but I also don’t want my brothers to think she’d be a bad fit with the club. She’s the cold-shoulder type, but she’s not even saying anything to the ol’ ladies.
“Hollywood,” I call out and tilt my head toward the door. Something is up, and it’s past time I figure out what it is.
Without a word, she stops what she’s doing and rounds the bar. She meets my gaze, “Come on.”
I follow her outside but hot on her heels. I want to ask her what the fuck but don’t jump to it. There’s obviously an issue, and I need to give her the time to confide in me. She spins on me, her lips in a firm line, not saying anything. Did I upset her? I don’t know when it could’ve happened, though.
“What’s wrong?” I eventually ask, reading the worry on her face and not liking it.
“My ex,” she whispers, then sighs in frustration. “I’m afraid he’s going to go after my daughter. She’s in Georgia, and there’s no way I can get to her in time.” A tear trails over her cheeks and along her jaw. This woman is tough as nails, and for her to break down like this, I know it’s serious. She swipes the wetness away, even now wanting to appear stronger than she’s feeling.
I release a breath and tug her closer. “I have a buddy in Georgia. Let me make a call to Bash, and I’ll make sure she’s safe.”
With a sniffle, she tips her head back to meet my gaze. “Why would you do that? What would I owe you in return?”
I frown. Why would she expect to owe me? “I’ll do it because I care about you. If she’s your daughter, then that means I care about her safety as well.”
Another tear falls, and she looks even more upset than before. “What would I owe you? I don’t have anything. I’m saving all the money I make so I can buy a car to get her. You want me to pay you with my body? It’s all I have left.” I can tell it’s hard for her to swallow her self-respect down and offer herself up to me as payment.
With a grumble, I pull her to my chest and wrap my arms around her in a fierce hug. This woman has had a hard enough time in life, that I don’t doubt. To hear she can’t see her kid, and she’s saving money to find a way to get her, makes me want to help her even more. “I don’t want anything.”
“Bullshit. Nobody does stuff like that for free, Cowboy.”
“Well, I’m not like everyone else. You being happy and not worrying over your girl is what I want in return.”
She sniffles, her arms finally going around my waist, and she squeezes tight. “You’re too good to be true. You have to be.”
“Nah, sweetheart, I promise you I have my own hang-ups, but this is something I can help you with. I want to.”
“You’re not a creep who likes young girls, are you?”
“Fuck, no,” I growl. “I have my own daughter I raised.”
“Where is she?”
“Married with my grandbaby. Happy.”
She nods. “Okay. Thank you.”
I pull her back and place a kiss on the top of her head. “Go tell Ripper you need a few days off.”
“I can’t—” she begins, and I interrupt.
“I’m calling my buddy to have him watch over your kid. He’s got his own daughter, so rest easy he won’t hurt her. Then we’re going to head to Georgia to get your girl.”
“But how? I don’t have a car.”
I wink. “Well, then, it’s a good thing I don’t only own a motorcycle.”
She smacks my chest. “You’re an ass, you know that? But one I like,” she says quickly and pops up on her toes to place a kiss on my chin.
I smirk. As long as she likes me, then I’m already winning.
Chapter 10
Until I can swap out vehicles, I put Hollywood on the back of my bike. I have a pretty nice blacked-out Hummer I keep in storage locally for when we have shitty weather, and I can’t ride. I put my bike in the safety of my storage unit and use the Hummer as needed. It’s convenient.
I catch Hollywood’s wide-eyed stare as I tell her to wait outside the unit while I pull the other vehicle out. She stands off to the side patiently as I roll my bike inside, not moving until I tell her to hop in. I wonder what she’d think if she saw everything I own. Would she still give me her sassy mouth or tiptoe around me like others have done in the past? That’s the last thing I’d ever want from her. I need her to remain authentic with me.
I still have the house I bought in Alabama when I retired. I keep the more valuable items I acquired while playing ball that I wasn’t ready to part with when I went
Nomad in that house. I may have a sportscar or two in the garage as well, but they aren’t my usual thing. They’re more of a toy I play with when I head back to see Kadence and her brothers-in-law. Kadence’s sister-in-law, Shyla, is a realtor, so she manages the property when I’m not in town.