Page 10 of Kyle

I down my beer and stroll into my bedroom, stopping at the dresser and pulling my club rings off to drop them in the silver tray where I keep them. I sling my leather cut off and hang it over the chair in the corner. Stripping down, I drop into bed, exhaustion heavy on my bones. Stacking my hands under my head, I stare at the ceiling, my mind filled with images of Sutton.

She looked real pretty in the courtyard patio at Joey’s. That place has been around since the eighties and has become a legendary drinking establishment. I think it makes most of its money on bike night.

I had to really struggle to keep my eyes off her with her blonde curls gleaming in the moonlight. All I wanted to do was sink my hands into those soft tresses and carry them to my nose, inhaling their fragrance. Would they smell like coconut shampoo? Or maybe something more exotic?

Closing my eyes, I grit my teeth and remind myself for the hundredth time she’s my brother’s girl. I try to block the images of her from my mind, but it’s no use. My brain won’t shut off.

Images of the two of us in the food truck, working side by side, fill my head. It’s cramped quarters, with no way to escape each other. We’d have to work together well, or it’d be a living hell. Fuck, why am I tormenting myself with these thoughts?

Jesus Christ, shut up about it. You cannot even think of hiring this girl.It would be a disaster of monumental proportions. The temptation to cross the line with her would be ever-present, and I can’t do that. She’s the one girl I absolutely cannot have. No one fucks around and steals their brother’s girl.

It's bad enough he’s my biological brother, but he’s also my MC brother, and that shit for sure is not done in the club.

So, why do I keep thinking about it?

I roll to my side and punch my pillow. There’s no way she can work for me. I have to make sure that’s clear.

CHAPTER FIVE

Kyle—

My alarm goes off, and I crack an eye open, find my phone on the nightstand, and turn it off. And all at once the shit with Rafe floods back.

Fuck.

There’s no way I can hire his girlfriend.

How the hell can I get out of this without admitting the real reason?

In all the long hours I lay awake last night, I didn’t come up with anything better than avoiding my brother.

I pull on a pair of sweatpants and pad into the kitchen, lighting a smoke and making a cup of coffee. Stepping onto my back porch, I sit at the small table and check out the view. It’s almost noon, and I haven’t had a single message. Maybe that’s a sign it’ll be a good day.

I text TJ.

ME: WHAT’S GOING ON TODAY WITH THE CLUB?

TJ: YOU, ME AND BILLY ARE GOING WITH COLE TO SILVER’S OFFICE. CHECK THROUGH HIS FILES FOR ANY INFORMATION WE CAN USE TO FIGURE OUT WHO PUT TWO BULLETS THROUGH THE BACK OF HIS HEAD.

ME: GREAT. WHEN DO WE LEAVE?

TJ: MEET AT HIS OFFICE IN AN HOUR.

ME: WHERE THE HELL IS IT?

TJ: DOWNTOWN. 28 N 1stSt

By the time I pull up at the designated address and back my bike to the curb, I’m five minutes late. The other three beat me here. Cole, Billy, and TJ stand on the sidewalk.

“You’re late,” Cole snaps.

“Sorry. I took a wrong turn, ended up on a maze of one-way streets.” I step on the curb and lean back to stare at the ten-story structure. It’s an older building judging by the art deco style of architecture. I’m guessing maybe 1930s. “This the place?”

“Yeah.” Cole remains on the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette.

“We goin’ in?” I ask.

“Waiting on the widow to let us inside,” Billy replies.

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