Page 75 of Redeem Me

I get a kick out of her texts over the night. Her spelling gets worse as the booze clouds her thinking. I stay sober, mostly because Golden, Indigo, and Claw are having a drinking contest, and I might need to resuscitate them later.

Plus, Leon Kovak has been assigned to act as one of my groomsmen, meaning he’s stuck here at the strip club with us. Dressed in his version of casual, the blond sits at a nearby table surrounded by his security detail. Occasionally, he’ll send one of his armed employees to the stage to stick cash in a dancer’s G-string.

Only once tonight did I try to bond with him. After we first arrived, I asked him why Jacinda was always holding his finger. “Is that a Russian thing?”

Leon opened his mouth to remind me how his family wasn’t Russian but then caught Tack chuckling and decided to ignore my taunt.

“On the night Natasha returned, I oversaw the children for a short time. The girl woke up and prepared to cry. When I tried to cover her mouth to prevent her from waking the boy, she grabbed my finger. I let her hold it, so she would remain quiet.”

“And now, you’re her favorite uncle,” I replied, wondering if I can get Jacinda to trust me like Hector does.

“That favorite-uncle thing won’t stick,” Sync said and tried to rest a beer bottle on Golden’s head. “Jacinda hasn’t even gotten to know me yet. I’m great with little girls.”

Golden smacked away the bottle, and a shoving match ensued. Since then, Leon has ignored the rest of us. Well, until Pork Chop reads a text from Carys out loud.

“We’re under attack by pig-scented skanks with festering cunts and too much eyeshadow.”

“Let’s go,” I tell the men as Leon stands and moves with his team to the door.

“I’m going to punch a bitch in the face,” Golden insists and takes a swing at Pork Chop.

“You can walk over there,” I tell him and point at Indigo and Claw. “You dumbasses need to walk, too. I don’t want anyone crashing.”

“It’s only a few blocks,” Golden growls at Pork Chop and then frowns. “Wait, you’re not Bear.”

As I deal with the dumbasses, Tack disappears through the front door. When Hunter’s in potential danger—even from pig-scented skanks with festering cunts and too much eyeshadow—he doesn’t fuck about. Leon’s also taking charge, leaving me to look like a weak-kneed dipshit.

That’s why I shove Golden out of my way and run to my Ruger Super Redhawk. In the short time between Carys’s text and our arrival, the street has filled with police cars. Women line the sidewalk. I spot the skanks waving their hands around and explaining their side to the cops.

I immediately realize we’re dealing with a Brennan situation. Why else would Natasha and Petra Kovak along with their security be handcuffed? Meanwhile, Hunter and the O’Malley sisters remain cuff-free.

“Get those off them,” I demand after pushing my way through the crowd of looky-loos to reach Natasha. Glaring at a nearby cop, I growl, “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“Are you talking to me?” Siobhan asks from the curb where she rests her head on her knees. “I will puke the fuck on you if you give me grief right now, Bear O’Malley.”

“Settle down and step behind the line,” orders a cop who tries to usher me backward without touching me. When I refuse to move, the cop smartly gives up and acts like he doesn’t care.

Nearby, Tack checks on Hunter who seems startled by the chaos around them. I notice how the normally chilly rich girl is standing very close to her non-boyfriend biker right now.

A few steps away, Pork Chop hugs Carys who is faking contractions and threatening to sue the cops. More Backcountry Kings arrive while I’m texting Noble to let him know shit’s going south here.

“Those bitches attacked us!” screams the head skank from the other group.

Natasha responds by singing a song. Siobhan and Petra jump in with the lyrics. I assume they’re drunk singing until I notice how the head skank and her festering cunt friends fly into a rage.

“Lucky for you,” Natasha and Siobhan cry together, “I’m just me!”

“What is this?” I ask Natasha.

The sexy, drunk blonde suddenly seems to notice me despite how I’ve been standing next to her for the last few minutes.

“You are so handsome,” Natasha murmurs and nuzzles my chest with her cheek. “Come down closer.”

I look over her head to where Leon currently speaks with the precinct chief. More Brennan-connected cops arrive. Down the road at a light idles an army of black SUVs likely belonging to the Syndicate. In the other direction, I hear the roar of motorcycles.

Glancing down at Natasha, I find her licking her lips and wearing a “fuck me” gaze. I lean down to hear what she wants to share.

Rather than ask about her handcuffs, she whispers, “I want to lick your scrotal raphe.”

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