Page 13 of Savage Spades

“Your gang--”

“Club.” Calling the Savage Spades a gang was an insult.

She let out a sigh. “Your club didn’t pay their tab last time.”

Damn. Gunner must have forgotten last time they were here. Gunner kept a bank card on him that he used to pay for club activities. All of their monthly dues went to that bank account and they used it for times like these. Kit pulled out his wallet and passed over his credit card.

“Here. Put the tab from the other night on my card.” He’d ask Gunner to reimburse him tomorrow.

Her green eyes looked down at the card and back at him. “All of it? Are you sure?”

“You want your money, don’t you?”

She uncrossed her arms and grabbed the card before turning around to use the cash register. She came back with a receipt for him to sign. Goddamn, they’d drank a lot the other night. He signed the paper and handed it back to her. She tucked it under the register.

“Can I get a beer now?” he asked. She seemed to thaw a little now that he’d paid the tab.

“Bottle or poured?” she asked.

“Poured.”

She grabbed a big mug from behind the counter and poured. She was sure to tilt the glass so there wasn’t too much foam. He wondered how long she’d been working at the bar. She moved around like she had the place memorized. Like the same way he moved around his shop. She set the mug down in front of him, and he gave her a wink.

“See ya next time.”

She twisted her face in disgust before turning around and helped her bartender slice some lemons. He carried the drink across the room and back to the booth where Zeke sat.

“You’re not drinking?” Zeke asked him.

“I have a fight later tonight, remember?” he said.

“Hey, so what do guys think? This our new drinking spot?” Gunner asked from a couple tables away.

“Hell yeah,” Zeke said.

The guys chimed in their agreement.

Kit looked over at the bar to see Cam with her mouth hanging open. He raised his beer with a smirk on his face.

Chapter Seven

Kit

“Congratulations, I heard you kicked ass last night,” Jett said.

Kit winced as he lowered himself onto the barstool next to Jett. His whole body hurt. Like always, he still had plenty of bruises to show for his winnings.

“Yep, took home a grand.”

Jett slapped him on the back, and his face twisted in pain. “Oops. Sorry, man.”

The bar area of the clubhouse was full of people. Sunday was a big day for the club. Most of the town was closed today, and it was like an unofficial family day.

Zeke’s daughter, Iris, ran up to Kit and handed him an ice pack. “Dad said to give you this.”

Kit smiled and took the ice pack from her. “Thank you.”

“Why do you need an ice pack?” she asked as she bounced from side to side. She wore a pair of jeans with a black t-shirt. Her hair was pulled into a loose, messy ponytail. It was apparent she was being raised by her father.

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