Page 19 of Shame

He paid for my car and that’s a lot to do for someone if you’re just looking for sex, but of course he is expecting to be paid back. I should let him know I’ll do that. So yeah, I have some things I can say. Polite things. Nothing to make him think I want to date him because even though that sounds like a dream, it just can’t happen.

Me: Hey, sorry I missed your call. Just wanted to let you know I got your text. I’m working until two, but maybe we can talk after that? I’d like to discuss my car.

I hit send, then show it to Fia. She’s grinning when she looks at my phone, but it quickly falls from her face.

“What?” I ask.

“Boring,” she says, walking to the door and unlocking it.

“How is it boring? What do you mean?”

Before I can get an answer, a flood of regulars stream in, and I’m too busy to even remember that I sent him a text at all.

Chapter Seven

Kaison

I sit down at the table with my plate of food and dig in. Spam made his famous breakfast burritos. The guy should open his own restaurant. He cooks so fucking good—everything is always juicy and with the right amount of seasoning—but he says he ain’t interested. Whatever. I still get to eat it. Cooking ain’t for me, not in any way. Don’t remember the last time I cooked something outside of a microwave or tossing a pizza in the oven.

“Listen up!” Grizz shouts, walking into the room from the back door. My brother is hot on his heels. “Me and Snapper are getting shit together for the summer charity event. You know how this goes. You give us ideas, you give us your time and all your damn attention until this thing is done, we got that?”

There’s a round of yeses from everyone in the clubhouse within earshot.

“Good. Glad to fucking hear it,” is his response.

He sits across from me after getting a plate of food. My brother sits beside him, looking like he’s ready to flip his lid already this early in the morning. He don’t eat food with flavor, so he don’t eat anything Spam makes.

“What did you do to him?” I ask Grizz, nodding toward my brother.

“I didn’t do a single fucking thing. He showed up all pissy like someone shit in his cereal.”

“I don’t eat cereal,” Snapper says, jabbing away at his phone.

Who the hell is he texting like that?

“You know what I mean,” Grizz says, waving him off, then turning to me. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Heard you pissed off Dunner.”

“When isn’t he pissing off Dunner?” Rhino drops into the seat beside me, his plate full with five burritos. “Hell, when isn’t he pissing off anyone?”

“You going to eat all that?” I ask, ignoring his comment.

“Hell to the fucking yes I am. Spam never makes this shit anymore, and it’s my favorite.”

“You’d eat shit if it had enough salt on it,” Snapper says.

“Damn right I would,” Rhino says seriously, but I know he’s joking.

“What did you do this time?” Snapper asks me, putting his phone down.

“Not a damn thing I shouldn’t have. I got all those guns off Harry’s property and dropped them off at the station. Edalmost shot me for the last fucking time. Besides, it’s Dunner’s goddamn responsibility to handle this shit, and when he doesn’t want to do it, I have no problem doing it for him and then letting him know that I did.”

“Motherfucker dumped about a hundred guns on his doorstep,” Grizz says, wheezing out a laugh.

“It was hardly thirty,” I say.

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