Page 137 of The Winslow Brothers

But as I watch the way my sister helps me get ready—brushing my hair, letting me borrow some of her clothes, doing everything in her power to lift my mood—I realize that I need to stop hiding shit and let her and Katelynnall the wayinto my life. I have to be more open to their support that I so obviously need.

It’s time you finally tell themeverything—even your standing Wednesday appointments with Dr. Winters.

Saturday, April 7th

Flynn

I pull my Harley to a stop just outside of Club Craze and cut the engine. The beats of house music pound from the inside of the building, and I’m already regretting agreeing to come.

I hate nightclubs.

Give me my bike. Give me the open road. Give me a roomful of people who aren’t drunk off booze and dry fucking one another, and I’ll show up with bells on.

But this awful scene? Busy nightclubs in New York City? They’re the last place a guy like me wants to be.

I hop off my seat, remove my helmet from my head, and secure it to my bike, before turning on my heel to face the madhouse. My black boots crunch into the gravel between the street and sidewalk outside of the club as I head toward the entrance.

Of course, standing behind the clichéd velvet ropes that are guarded by a pair of bouncers, there’s a line a mile long of people waiting to get the coveted invite inside.

I’m starting to feel way too fucking old for shit like this.

“Hey there. You’re the guy who just rode in on that hot Harley, aren’t you?” a female voice asks from behind me, and I turn around to find a skinny blonde with plastic tits standing there giving me the kind of come-hither eyes that say she’s down for a lot of things she probably shouldn’t be down for.

She’s attractive, yes, but not my type.

“Good God, I’d like to do more than take a ride on his bike,” the brunette standing beside her whispers loud enough for me to hear.

First of all, honey, I never take anyone on the back of my bike. And secondly… Well, confidence is one thing, but being this obvious and superficial is an absolute turnoff for a bastard like me.

But I don’t tell them that. Instead, always sticking with the priority of being a gentleman, no matter the situation, I simply offer a smile and move back to my task of trying to get inside this fucking club.

Once I’m standing closer to the velvet ropes, I grab the attention of one of the bouncers with a head nod. “Hey, man, I know you’re busy with all this—” I pause and glance over my shoulder “—bullshit.”

“Yeah.” He laughs. “What can I do for ya?”

“My brother told me to come by here and grab a drink with him,” I explain briefly. “Jude Winslow. You might know him?”

The bouncer nods, his face reacting in a similar way that anyone who knows my baby brother seems to do. “Ah, hell yeah! Jude’s a good time.”

Yeah. That’s what they always say too. It’s one of the things I’ve always loved about Jude. He’s just so fucking lovable that it takes a serious effort not to like him.

I grin. “That he is.”

“Come on in,” he adds and moves the velvet rope for me. “Pretty sure Jude is in the VIP area.”

“Thanks.”

Once I make it into the club, the house music grows louder and more persistent inside my skull as I near the main area where the dance floor and DJ are located.

I almost pull out my cell and text my brothers to figure out how in the hell I’m supposed to find them in this chaos of gyrating bodies and drunken fools, but I get lucky when I spot Remy at the bar.

“You made it,” he says and claps a hand onto my shoulder when I step up beside him.

I did, indeed, make it, made obvious by the fact that I’m standing right here. I don’t bother acknowledging the evidence of my presence and, instead, move on to information I don’t know. “Where’s Ty?”

“Hell if I know. Said he had something come up last minute.”

I glance around for the man of the hour, the one who was annoyingly insistent on getting me to come here tonight. But when I don’t spot him right away, I meet Rem’s eyes again. “And Jude?”

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