Page 11 of Jolt's Vengeance

I grin, feeling a small surge of pride at having lightened his mood, even just a little. "Nope. It's part of my charm."

Shiver snorts, downing the rest of his whiskey. "That what you call it? I was thinking more along the lines of 'annoying as fuck.'"

"Potato, potahto." I shrug, refilling his glass without being asked. "So, you gonna tell me what's really bugging you, or do I have to guess?"

Shiver's expression darkens again, but he doesn't shut me down completely.

Progress, I suppose.

"It's just... frustrating, you know?" he says after a long moment. "Feels like we're spinning our wheels, not getting anywhere."

I nod, even though I'm not entirely sure what he's referring to.

"Sometimes the waiting is the hardest part," I offer, trying to sound wise beyond my years. "But I'm sure the club has a plan. Damon wouldn't let us just sit on our asses if there wasn't a reason."

Shiver's eyes narrow slightly at the mention of our President's name.

There's a story there, but it's not my place to pry.

"Yeah, well, patience ain't exactly my strong suit," he mutters, tracing the rim of his glass with one tattooed finger.

I bite back a smartass comment about that being the understatement of the century.

Now's not the time for jokes, no matter how much I want to lighten the mood.

"Look, man," I say instead, leaning on the bar. "I've seen enough to know that this club, these brothers... they're the real deal. Whatever's going on, we'll handle it. It’s just gonna take a little time"

Shiver looks at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Then, slowly, he nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right."

I resist the urge to pump my fist in victory.

"Of course I'm right," I say instead, unable to resist a little gloating. "I'm wise beyond my years. It's a burden, really."

Shiver rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "And modest too. Christ, who let you in here again?"

I grin, grabbing a fresh rag to wipe down the bar.

We lapse into a comfortable silence after that, me cleaning and Shiver nursing his drink.

My mind drifts to my own brother, Victor, or Vader as the Deathstalkers MC calls him.

Wonder what he'd think of me now, prospect cut on my back and outlaw MC all around me.

Probably wouldn't be disappointed considering I kind of followed in his footsteps, but then again, we both walked different paths for a reason.

The armed services, a life of rules and structure.

Me?

I crave the chaos, the freedom that comes with this world.

I continue my cleaning, moving from the bar to the tables scattered around the room.

Shiver watches me work, nursing his drink and looking slightly less stressed than when he came in.

As I'm stacking chairs, a thought occurs to me. "Hey, Shiver? You hear anything about your dad’s members comin’ in? I overheard Hawk mentioning something about reinforcements."

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