Page 24 of Chains

“Go sit over there by the desk where Tracy is, and I’ll be as quick as I can.” I tell her, dropping a quick chaste kiss on her forehead, and walking away before I did something she definitely wasn’t ready for.

Half an hour later, after I’ve helped Ky clean up the gym, I take a quick shower, changing back into my usual clothes of jeans, T-shirt, my DCMC cut, and heavy motorcycle boots on my feet.

Walking up to the reception desk, finally ready to get out of here for the day, a frown marred my brow, when I notice Zoe on the phone and not Tracy, the girl hired to do the job.

Catching the tail end of the conversation, I realized she was making a booking for a customer, and my death glare then turned to Tracy who again was sitting there on her phone, popping gum. I spear her with a murderous glare, letting her see just what I’m capable of. Her throat contracts as she audibly swallows nervously, the gum disappearing.

“Who the fuck’s the receptionist here, you or Zoe?” I bark at the girl, who’s shrinking back in her chair by the second.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Ky demands, coming to stand by the half-moon curved desk.

“This one,” I point to the girl, “was just sitting on her ass while Zoe was taking the call for a new client.” I explain.

“Really, I didn’t mind. Gave me something to do while I waited.” Zoe tries to back up the other girl.

“Not the point, little one.” I cut in. Trying to ignore the way, Zoe’s cheeks reddened at my endearment. Oh, she likes it alright. I make a note of using it more often in the future.

Ky turns his gaze onto Tracy. “Pack up your shit, you’re done here.” He tells her gruffly.

“But you can't do that.” She spits out. But Ky cuts her off.

“I can and I have. You’ve been an average lay, and you’re a worthless receptionist. Now get the fuck out.” He dismisses her, as her face contorts in rage.

“Why, you worthless piece of shit! I have a good mind to speak to my lawyer about you.” She shrieks her threat, as Ky spins around on her, getting in her face.

“Just fucking try it. You do, and I’ll make things really uncomfortable for you and your entire family. Bitch. Now get.”

The two locked in some kind of stare off until Tracy jerks her gaze away, storming out of the gym in a huff.

“Was that really necessary?” Zoe’s the first to speak, as I throw her a warning look over my shoulder, but don’t reply, ignoring her narrowed gaze on me.

“What the fuck do we do now?” I grumble, turning my attention back to my brother Ky, and the fact he can’t keep his dick in his pants could come back to bite us on the ass. “We’re gonna need a receptionist to man the phones.”

Ky turns to Zoe, and I can see the cogs turning in his head as he turns on the charm.

“How about you, babe? You need a job? It’s part time, all you need to do is Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.”

I ball my hands into tight fists by my sides, so that I don’t fuck up my club brother. I hate it when he flirts, knowing he’s bound to get what he wants in no time. Not only is he a member of the Devil’s Carnage MC, he’s also Kick’s son, the president of the club. So, burying him six feet under is out of the question.

Zoe looks at him nervously. “Ah, I don’t know. I do plan on returning to my old job once I’m fully back to one hundred percent. But I must admit, I enjoyed the interaction. I have been feeling out of sorts since I moved here.”

“Then that’s settled. You can start on Monday from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. I’ll see about getting someone else to job share with you for the rest of the day.”

“But I haven’t agreed…” Zoe begins, but Ky ignores her, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Thanks, doll.” Before spinning on his heel and leaving the two of us alone to stare after him.

“What the hell was that?” she mutters, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“That was the whirlwind that is Ky. He’s used to getting his own way. He has his whole life.”

“No shit?”

“Come on, little one. Time to take you home.” I tell her, guiding her outside to the parking lot where my sled is parked. A possessive hand on the small of her back. Suddenly, Zoe stops, looking horrified when we stop next to my black and chrome Harley Fat boy.

“I can’t get on that,” she whispers.

“You can and you will. Or I’m going to turn your cute ass the same red as your face is going to be in a minute.” I tell her. And right on cue, she gasps, and a blush creeps along her pale cheeks.

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