Page 6 of Lucky's Trouble

“Thanks, Lucky.”

“You got it.” I go to leave, but she stops me before I can make it out the door.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, you know?”

“Oh, yeah? What am I like?” I ask, amused to hear how she perceives me.

“I haven’t even fucked you, and you’re always here, checking in on me, doing things for me.”

“We’re friends.” I shrug.

“In my experience, men aren’t just friends with women,” she says, then corrects herself. “Men aren’t anything to women unless there’s some kind of transaction. I just can’t figure out what you get from me to make you want to stick around.”

My stomach turns to stone, and my jaw ticks in irritation. “You’ve been hanging around the wrong kind of men then.”

She huffs. “You got that right.”

I close the door with a quiet snick before heading to the security room where I know Rigger’s working, replaying my conversation with Myla. I don’t know her story since we haven’t been friends for all that long, but I wonder what she’s been through to get her to this place. Not that I think there’s anything wrong with working at the brothel, but I’ve read the statistics. Nearly half of all prostitutes have experienced sexual abuse in their lifetime, and not a day goes by that I don’t wonder if Myla’s one of them.

If she is, I’d gladly slice the dick off the asshole who did it to her.

“Hey, brother,” I greet, taking a seat next to Rigger.

“What’s going on? You and Riot take care of that issue for the Costas?” The questions are for me, yet his eyes are glued to the security feeds.

I look up at the wall of monitors that cycle through the many camera angles on the property and smirk when I see where Rigger’s attention is. His bitch, Navy, is chatting with Mary on the pool deck.

Navy is Rigger’s stepsister, but that didn’t stop him from claiming her, the twisted bastard. Not that I can blame him—Navy’s hot, and even more than that, she’s cool as shit, like Myla.

Deciding to not rib him for his obvious obsession with his woman, I reply, “Yeah. Wasn’t hard. The asshole knew it was coming and didn’t put up much of a fight.”

The Sons might be on our way up, but we still have a few outstanding debts. One of those debts is to the Costa family. After finding out that Rigger’s dad, Ray, had been raping Navy since she was fourteen, he obviously wanted to kill the motherfucker. Unfortunately, he was protected by the Costas, the same family we borrowed money from to open the brothel. That made Ray untouchable, at least until we repaid them and agreed to take over Ray’s position in the Costa organization, meaning we now had to take care of their problems.

The guy currently being loaded into the back of a van by the prospects was one of those problems.

“Riot seem okay?”

I chuckle. “As okay as Riot can be.”

Riot has always enjoyed the darker side of club life. If someone needs killing, he’s the guy who jumps at the chance. He’s got more demons rooting around in his head than brain cells, but he’s loyal as fuck and a good man to have on your side.

“Good. I’ll let Prez know.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and shoots off a text to Cy.

“Got a question for you.”

“What’s up?” His gaze returns to Navy, flipping to a different view when she and Mary walk back into the building.

“Think I could take Myla to the car show Saturday?”

“Myla?” he asks.

“Fiona.”

He glances over at me suspiciously. “You two on a real name basis now?”

“We’re just friends.”

He snorts. “Since when do you have friends with a pussy?”

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