Page 27 of Never Wed an Outlaw

Standing up, I shuffled over, realizing how drunk I'd gotten when I could barely grip the doorknob. Skin busted in, sliding past me, kicking the door shut and catching my shoulders with both hands.

“What the fuck's going on in here, Prez? You look awful.”

“Nothing, Skinny boy,” I said. “Ain't none of your concern.”

The brother wasn't stupid. His eyes flicked past me, saw the half-drained bottle of Jack on my desk, and inhaled the chemical stink on my breath.

“No, Prez, I think it's my concern if the man who's supposed to be leading us winds up so blitzed he can't hold the gavel. Come on, let's get you outta here.”

I grumbled and gave him a half-assed shove. He had a better grip, holding me steady with one arm, leading me out to the garages, passing our bikes.

Next thing I knew, he had me in his truck. We rolled through the clubhouse's gate, leaving my poor abandoned bottle and family heirloom behind with my bastard father's ghost.

“Where you taking me?” I growled, staring across the sunset slipping behind the Smokies.

“Ruby Heel so you can sober the fuck up. You said you'd be by the place soon anyway to see how biz is running. I think it's time we took care of that.”

I stared out the window like a damned kid on a field trip to the math museum – fuck, did they even have those? Now, I knew something was really wrong, when going to inspect the finest pussy this club had felt like a chore.

What had Hannah done to me? I thought about yesterday, remembering how close we'd been to driving it home.

I was almost in her. Still wanted to be.

Still tasted her on my lips, hot and eager, calling my cock to stir every time I thought about her little tongue moving on mine.

Thirty more seconds. All I would've needed if that fuck, Firefly, hadn't barged in at the worst time. I would've had her coming in her pants from my lips alone, and then it would've been a cakewalk getting everything off and slamming her down on the nearest surface, ready for my cock.

My head bobbed like a fishing lure by the time we pulled into the Heel. New sign looked nice, a glowing ruby slipper shining neon red hung above every entrance.

Skin and I walked inside, heading through the throngs of horny, loud drunks who'd gathered for another evening to forget their woes. A few months ago, I might've joined them, happy to plant myself in front of the stage with a drink and watch the night's prime tits and ass shake themselves a little richer.

We found Meg hanging out in her office, perched over a magazine, her PROPERTY OF SKIN cut constantly draped over her shoulders. When she saw me with her man, she looked up, startled, slamming the flimsy tabloid shut.

“Oh, Dust! I didn't know you were coming by tonight,” she said, flashing Skin awhy didn't you tell melook.

Next to me, Skinny boy signaled it wasn't nothing serious. I was too fucked up to care they were talking about me underneath my nose in goddamned signs.

“Relax. I'm just here to check in, see how things are running, have you and Skin break down the cash flow.” I looked at my Treasurer, and saw his expression sour.

If he wanted to drag me out of my own fuckin' clubhouse for business, then we'd sit the hell down and talk business for real.

Something about the bright, flashy purple cover of that tabloid laying on her desk caught my eye. I reached over, picked it up, and held it up to take a look.

“King Silas – playboy to papa! Europe's biggest rogue tells the world he's never been happier, and more in love with his wife, with royal baby nearing.” I finished reading the headline and slammed that shit down. “Really, babe? Is this the shit you girls read when the boys ain't looking? Or are you trying to tell Skinny here something about a new bundle of joy?”

Meg flushed siren red beneath her soft blonde locks. Skin went a little white, clenching his teeth, probably regretting the fact that he hadn't let Firefly go for my throat at church today.

“It's just a little harmless gossip,” she said. “Should I print off the reports now so you can look them over?”

“Please.” I grinned, reaching for Skin's arm and pulling him down into the seat next to me. I'd had my fill of busting his balls for now.

I sat still for the next half hour, listening to their briefing on the club's financials. Business was looking good. Far better than what we'd had with a couple beat up garages under my old man.

We'd turned the Heel into one of the most popular places around, even though we had to keep kickbacks to the city and the county going to avoid any bullshit.

When we were done, Cora came in for Meg, her belly bump growing by the day. The two old ladies disappeared to check in with the dancers for the evening acts. We'd keptour noses as clean as we could since day one – no whoring, no druggies, and no two timing bitches.

“Prez, just tell me one thing,” Skin said after awhile. “Are you and Hannahreallyfucking?”

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