Page 51 of Blade

“Micah.”

That immediately snapped me out of the haze surrounding me.

I looked over at Grams. Closing my eyes, I steadied my breathing as she reached out and took my hand.

“Calm down, Micah. This was my fault. I underestimated his ego.”

“No, I let my emotions get the better of me. I know how he works, and I let myself walk right into his verbal trap.”

I picked up the chair I had knocked over and sat.

“Let’s eat that delicious meal you made. No reason for the entire night to go to shit.”

Gram nodded, getting up to dish out our food.

We ate in relative silence, a few words shared here and there.

I couldn’t taste my food. My mind was on what Grant said and wondering what exactly he meant by it. Was he talking about enjoying his dinner as he caught up with Becca, or was he insinuating more would happen after the date?

When dinner was over, Jack and I helped Grams clean up, washing the dishes for her. She packed up the leftovers and sent them home with us. Wishing her goodnight, we hopped on our bikes for the short ride across the street to the clubhouse.

Stepping into the clubhouse, my brothers were like locusts. They knew Jack and I had dinner at Grams and every one of them was hoping to score the leftovers we brought back with us.

Edging up to the bar, Johnny handed me a beer. He was a good kid and would make a solid brother one day.

He started out a little rough, which was how he got his name. Everyone started calling him Johnny come lately because the boy couldn’t get anywhere on time to save his life. Once he found his stride as a prospect, we shortened it to Johnny.

“Here you go, kid.” I handed the containers to the prospect.

“These are for me?” He marveled, surprised by my gift.

“Hey, how come the prospect gets the leftovers?”

I turned to see Banshee pouting like a two-year-old.

“Because he is the only one that didn’t practically tackle me when I walked in the damn door with them, and because I gave them to him.”

“Hmph.” Banshee walked away, sulking like a child.

I swear, I had never seen so many grown men act like children over food.

“Hey, Banshee,” Jack called out. “Get yourself an old lady and you can have home cookin’ every night.”

I turned back to the bar, laughing at the look of horror on his face.

King sat down beside me, with Gunner on his other side.

Signaling to Johnny, who quickly brought him a whiskey, he asked, “How did it go?”

“To shit, that’s how it went,” Jack answered before I got the chance to. “Had to almost tackle him to the ground to keep him from going after Grant when they left.”

Jack lifted his beer to his mouth, and I shoved him from his stool.

“Tattle tale.”

King looked over at me and asked, “What happened?”

“Grant was just running his mouth as usual, and I let it get to me.”

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