Page 32 of Save Me

"Yeah, you are."

"I am not," I growl. "If they want to walk around topless, good for them. Their bodies, their choice. It's not my fucking business. I'd just prefer if they'd stop hitting on me every goddamn time I come here. I don't like it."

"Because they walk around topless."

"Because I was a fucking virgin until recently," I snap. "So excuse the fuck out of me if casual nudity is still new to me."

His eyes widen, his mouth popping open. "Well, shit," he finally drawls, chuckling. "I thought I was the only motherfucker left in this town who knew how to keep it in my pants. Then Dalton informs me that he's a motherfucking virgin. Now you.And Priest has his own shit." He shakes his head, laughing loudly. "How the fuck did it end up being the four us?"

"You were a virgin when you met your girl?" I ask, not entirely sure why I'm surprised. I've known Memphis for years. Until he met Kylie, he never bothered with women.

"Damn near," he mutters. "Hadn't been with a woman since I was seventeen."

I smirk at him. "I'm judging the fuck out of you right now, just so you know."

"Go for it." He shrugs, unperturbed. "Most people do. If I gave a shit about their opinions, it might bother me. But out of curiosity, why are you judging me?"

"How the fuck were you damn near a virgin but you run a bar like this?"

"This place was Jayson's dream," he says quietly.

"Ah, got it." I don't ask for an explanation. I don't need one. I may be one of the only people who knew Memphis's shit until recently. And he knew mine. He picked me up off enough bar floors a few years ago. When you do that, secrets have a way of coming out. He told me about his best friend, Jayson. I told him about my nightmares.

If anyone gets what he's doing here, running a place like this, I do. We do what we gotta do to make shit right and live with the guilt. It's precisely why I'm here now.

"About that favor…" I say.

"What do you need?"

"You know where the Dixie Mafia congregates?" In another life, he was in an MC. Right up until everyone in his was murdered, including Jayson. And this place is full of bikers and criminals six nights a week. If anyone in my circle can get a bead on the pricks I need to find, it'll be Memphis.

"Jesus Christ, Brant," he mutters, blinking at me. "What the fuck do you need with them?"

"It's a long story."

He glances around at the mostly empty bar and then back to me. "I've got time, motherfucker. We aren't even open for another half hour."

"It's about my father," I mutter, running a hand down my face. "I'm pretty sure they're the ones who had the hit out on him. I need to find them."

"Why?"

I quickly fill him in on the situation with Isla and Bella, hitting the highlights. When I'm done talking, he leans back, whistling.

"I can ask around for you," he says. "But I'm not sure you should be getting involved in this, brother. If he owes them that kind of money, you may very well be the next one they come after. They won't stop trying to collect just because he's dead."

"Considered that," I mutter. "And if they want what he owes badly enough, they'll agree to negotiate."

"What kind of terms are you wanting to offer?"

"They give me the names of the two who killed him, and they agree not to go after Isla and Bella," I say. If they're willing to do that, I'll give them whatever he owes. I've been investing every goddamn penny I could for the last four years, trying to recoup my mother's fortune. And they've been good investments. She doesn't have a clue that his "life insurance" came directly from me. That's a secret I'll carry to my grave. What's left is more than enough to pay off his drug debt and ensure the past stays the past.

"It's not a bad plan," Memphis murmurs. "You sure you don't want to clear your name while you're at it? If you're dangling that kind of money in front of them, might as well attach whatever strings you want."

"Nope," I mutter. "That's the last damn thing I want."

"Right," he says, drawing the word out to let me know he thinks I'm full of shit. "You're just peachy-fuckin'-keen with everyone blaming you for his shit."

"Yeah." I meet his gaze, holding it. "If it means no one ever finds out what that motherfucker did to my mother, then yeah, Memphis. I'm peachy-fuckin'-keen with it."

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