Page 46 of Bristol

“Anything for you and these guys. Ya’ll have always been good to us. A good alliance to have, besides, I kinda like your preppy ass,” he elbows my arm and we both chuckle.

“If I hear anything before you do, I’ll send it in text, but Bash…” he trails off.

“Yeah?”

“I hope you rip that sick fucker’s goddamn dick off and shove it down his goddamned throat.”

I nod. I can’t think of anything more appropriate to the start of his fucking torment. My blood begins to boil and I have to take a deep breath to calm the anger rising in my chest at the thought of the man that has caused so much fucking agony to my girl.

Micah clasps his hand on my shoulder again, much like earlier, but this time with a tighter grip. A grip that says, ‘I’m here and I got your back.’

We head back to the party and I find my way to the bar for a beer to sip on while I scan the crowd.

Niles is behind the bar. I raise a hand and he makes eye contact with me and nods. He retrieves a Miller Lite and sets it on the bar in front of me. With the rush of the crowd, he’s still wearing that big-goofy ass grin. I take a sip of my beer and glance around me. There are faces here I’ve never seen before, and some I’ve only seen once or twice in the last three years. Reaper’s a popular son of a bitch.

Joey, Mikey, and Slim are sitting down the bar in a line. They aren’t the overly social type, sticking to themselves when the crowd gets thick like this. I’ve yet to spot Bristol in this crowd, meaning she’s likely in the living room area hanging out with the ladies in their usual spot. They like to sit around on the couches in there away from the ruckus that usually occurs on this side of the bar.

A short blonde-headed woman squeezes in next to me at the bar.

“Excuse me,” she says sweetly, glancing up at me through lashes that look like they weigh ten pounds with all the mascara that’s piled onto them.

I grab my beer and exit stage right. I’m not entertaining women tonight, or any other night. Besides, ol’ girl doesn’t stand a chance if Bristol gets ahold of her.

I weave through the crowd and slide in next to Slim at the bar.

“Make yourself at home,” Slim says, chuckling.

“I do,” I laugh, leaning onto the bar.

“It’s about damn time you showed up,” Mikey bellows from beside Slim.

“I’ve been here for a little while, you just couldn’t see me across the room without your glasses, you old fucker.”

Mikey shakes his head and laughs, grabbing his glasses from his shirt collar where they hang.

“Shut up, asshole.”

“What does Princess do when you’re out now that she’s not welcome around here anymore?” Joey asks Slim.

“Who knows. I don’t go home to that bitch anymore. She’s somebody else’s problem now.”

They had only been together for about a year and most of that time they were off and on anyway, but I still feel a little bad for the guy. He’s a stand-up brother and a damn good man. He put up with too much shit from that woman anyway. He should be thanking Bristol for not having to deal with her anymore.

I was worried at first that he would walk away from the club when everything went down, but surprisingly enough, he stood strong and got rid of her. I guess he’s no longer viewing her through rose-colored glasses.

“Good for you, man.” Mikey claps his hands together twice.

Joey waves me over so I walk around and stand behind him. He spins around on his barstool, the smell of scotch heavy in the air.

“Hear anything about our problem?”

“Not much. They got the message, though.”

“Ah. Good. Won’t be long now.”

“Nope.”

“Be at church early tomorrow. We’re having a little meeting prior, just you, me and Reaper.”

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