Page 6 of Frisco

“Like what?” I raised my chin.

“All fucking woman.”

Damn.

Damn!

Heat traveled through me. “What do you want?”

His eyes flickered, cooling off. “My club owes Gloves. We came to pay that debt. Part of it is helping his family the way they need to be helped. I didn’t know you were in town. He said you were in New York, married with a husband. A good life.” He took in my sneakers and my employee ID. “Your mom wanted more customers, so we’re setting it up so other charters stop in, and spread the word. We take care of our own, and that’ll spread too. Your sister mentioned opening her own salon. We’ll help set that up, but we’ll have a percentage of the ownership. I know you helped my guys today, kept the cops away and the manager from being a pain in the ass. We’ll pay the damages. In my eyes, that makes us owe you twice. So, I gotta ask, what do you want?”

Jesus. “What kind of favor did my brother do for you guys?”

“He saved a bunch of our brothers’ lives. Them, our club, and their families are grateful. We reached out to Gloves’ dad, but he didn’t want anything. Said just take care of the mama and the girls and he was good with that. I also gotta ask, would Gloves want this offer extended to your father? We don’t want to leave any stone unturned.”

I shook my head. “No. He’s an attorney in Chicago. He’s doing just fine.”

This was a surreal conversation. Out of the blue, Shane King—a guy I’d crushed on for a full year and then every time after when Connor would mention he’d heard from him—was standing in front of me wearing a 1% motorcycle club patch on his cut and offering to “help me out” in some way.

“I know what your club does, what they’re about. Why are you really here?”

His eyes flashed. “I told you. We’re paying off a debt.”

I shook my head, my stomach churning. “This doesn’t feel right to me. Feels like you’re trying to buy off Gloves. What did my brother actually do?”

A wall came down over his features. I could feel him growing distant.

It felt cold between us, and wowza—I didn’t like this feeling.

I gritted my teeth, because fuck this guy. Fuck any guy who had the power to affect me in any way. Not anymore. I didn’t know if ever. One asshole in my life had been enough.

“We’re here for a few more days,” he finally said. “You think of something you want, let us know. As you told my guys, you’re aware of where we hang.”

Right. My mom’s bar. Which I hadn’t stepped into since coming back to town.

I might’ve told those guys I could get them banned, but that wasn’t true. It was so far from the truth that it was sad. I loved Gloves, but a relationship with Ruby or Claudia? Nope. That hadn’t been a thing for the last twelve years, not since my wedding day.

He was still watching me.

“Leave my brother alone.”

Now those eyes narrowed, then chilled even more. “You know enough about us not to issue an order to a Red Demon.”

A shiver sped up my spine, inflaming my neck. I knew, which was why I’d said it anyway.

“I love my brother. He’s one of the only three good men I know. I cannot lose him. Your club messes with him, and I know what’ll happen.” My brother had truly awful luck. A strong argument could be made that he was cursed—had been all his life. Connor had no gut hunches. It was the opposite. If someone yelled that a house was on fire, Connor would run inside, but not to rescue anyone. He would just go in and stand there, confused about why it was on fire.

Shane’s nostrils flared, and he spoke softly. “Watch yourself.”

“You want to do something for me? That’s what it is. Leave Gloves alone.”

His chin rose, and I felt a whole new level of chill in the air. Goosebumps broke out over my skin, and dread took root in my gut. Dammit. This guy, his whole club—they were bad news.

Then, as if coming to a decision, he shifted, and some of the chill in the air faded. “I’ll consider it.”

He turned to leave, and I tried to pretend I didn’t feel a sort of disappointment when his gaze moved away from mine. Right.

My God.

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