Page 3 of Frisco

“I’m Gloves’ older sister, by a year.”

I had to add that last part because I was already feeling down. Didn’t need to bring my age into this.

That changed everything, which I’d known it would.

The Red Demons had history with my brother.

“This your store?” Corvette asked, starting to sit up.

I stood so he could finish.

The other sat up, leaned against the shelves, and cursed, probably starting to register the pain that the adrenaline had been keeping at bay. Corvette tried to move, but his hand slipped on some blood and he winced.

I caught his arm, steadying him and helping him sit back.

I realized the blood had a milky texture to it. Some of the soup had opened.

So awesome.

I cleared my throat. “I work here, yeah.”

Both were squinting at me. Or they were trying. Each had one eye completely swollen shut.

I sighed, figuring I should get this over with. “You got two choices. Give me your phone and let me call your club to come get you, or I gotta call the ambulance. If I do that… This is a small town. I’m positive the cops already know, but I had our manager head ’em off from coming in here. It’ll be a different story if the paramedics make a call.”

The second one grumbled, tipping his head back and pinching his nose.

Corvette just handed me his phone. “Press three.”

I did, after wiping it clean of blood, and heard, “Ghost here.”

Ghost. The biker name for Shane King, the one that I actually did know.

“I’m calling from the Friendly Grocery Mart. You’ve got two members here who need assistance—medical assistance.”

“What?”

Gah. His voice was a low baritone, and raspy in a way that hit my vagina, in the right way.

I handed that phone off asap because I did not need to be reacting that way to just a ‘what’ from him. Nope. No how. I had enough drama to handle right now as is.

Corvette took the phone, and as he continued the conversation, I stepped over toward the remaining crowd. Viola and Mrs. Johnson leaned to the right so they could see around me. Noah was also still there, which had me ready to grab a can of soup myself.

“Are you serious?”

He jolted, his eyes wide. “What?”

“Work. Do something!”

Yep. My control had snapped. I was blaming Otis and not Ghost’s very fine voice.

“You come in here every day and do nothing. Ben does everything. If you don’t get your ass working, you’re fired.”

His eyes narrowed. “Right. Like you could do that.”

I stepped closer and lowered my voice. “I’m thirty-six and just divorced from a truly authentic piece of shit. I can walk, and my life will be better. This is my low, so when I go to Otis and tell him it’s you or me, who do you think he’s going to keep?”

His eyes went back to being big. He hadn’t thought of that.

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