Page 182 of Repairing the Wreckage

“I do.” My smile fades. “And I feel the same way.”

“Thank you.” She rests her head on my shoulder and we watch the party for a bit. The bar’s over capacity. Pretty much anyone and everyone we know is here.

Most of the Lost Kings, from both the upstate and downstate clubs, along with their wives and girlfriends, have shown up. Guys from Zips, including Torch—which irritated me to no end—but so far he hasn’t shown his face in this corner of the bar.

Lots of fighters from The Castle have stopped to talk to me. They all want to gas me up about the Vegas fight. One asked how he could audition for Season Two of Supreme Underground Fighter. I told him to come talk to me at the gym this week. From their perspective, I’m sure it looks like I have the world by the balls. Went on TV, got famous, brought home stack of cash, and now I’m in a pro fight and earning a lot of money. That’s the dream, right? I’ll never be able to convince them otherwise. But maybe I can help any future fighters prepare for the SUF the experience better than I was able to.

Tonight’s going so well, I almost feel bad for giving Remy shit about throwing the party. Since it’s his place and he’s hosting, I didn’t want him closing down for the whole night. But our biker friends have been stuffing the tip jars with every order they make. So much so that maybe he’ll end up making more than if he’d been open to the public.

“Do you think I should go relieve Remy of bar duty?” Molly asks.

“Uh, absolutely not.” I know most of the people here, but I’m not sure all of them are aware of who Molly is or that she’s with me. A woman behind the bar by herself in a place full of bikers, mobsters, and gearheads could be trouble.

“Griff, I recognize almost everyone here,” Molly says. “And if they don’t know I’m your girlfriend, they definitely know I’m Remy’s sister.”

I lean down and say against her ear, “Knowing you’re Remy’s sister didn’t stop me from wanting to put my filthy paws all over you.”

She pulls away and flicks her challenging blue eyes up at me. “And you only get to put your hands on me because you have my permission, not Remy’s.”

She’s got me there. “Excellent point, Miss Holt.” I slide out of the bench and hold out my hand to her. “Let’s go give your brother a break.”

“You can’t serve drinks at your own party,” she protests, slipping her hand into mine.

“I’m not planning to.”

“You’re just going to sit at the bar like a scary bulldog chasing people away.”

I love the way my girl just gets me. “Woof, woof, baby.”

Her eyes narrow and her lips flatten with the effort of not laughing.

I walk behind Molly, keeping my hands at her waist to help her navigate the crowd—and because I enjoy touching her every second I can.

A large hand with several thick, metal rings on each finger waves in front of my face to catch my attention. Rooster’s bearded face grins at me. I stop and tug on Molly’s belt loops, so we can say hi to the Lost Kings downstate VP.

“Congratulations.” He slaps my shoulder hard enough to knock over a rhino.

“Thanks.”

His biker brother, Dex, joins us, also offering a congratulatory backslap. “I tried to warn you that was going to be a shit show,” he says, cutting right to it.

I shrug and nod, not really looking for brotherly advice or opinions at the moment. He means well, but I’m not in the mood. “I survived, but I definitely wouldn’t do it again.”

“Thank God,” Molly grumbles.

Dex chuckles. His gaze slides between Molly and me, noting how I’ve got my arm around her out in the open.

“How’re you doing, Molly?” he asks.

“Good. I was on my way to help my brother out.” She flicks an amused look up at me. “But someone thinks I need my own personal bouncer.”

Dex and Rooster both shake with laughter.

“No comment,” Dex says.

“Emily here with you?” I ask him.

“She is.” He nods to the far corner, across from the bar. “Playing darts with the ladies.”

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