Page 10 of Havoc

I already regretted agreeing to this nonsense, but I didn’t say so. All I wanted was to get the hell out of that office and touch grass.

I forced myself to play it cool because Zoe and Storm were good people who cared about me. I couldn’t see either of them intentionally leading me astray. It wasn’t their fault that every woman I’d ever dated had been a judgmental, controlling asshole. It was the main reason I stuck to casual sex with club girls. The last thing in the world I needed was a judgmental, controlling woman that my club paid to annoy me.

By the time I made it out of Storm’s office, Zoe had talked me into giving her friend a tour of the clubhouse and having lunch with her. When we stepped out into the meeting room, Riley smiled awkwardly at me.

Her fiery red hair was neatly groomed, a cascade of smooth, gleaming beauty. I couldn’t help but notice how green her eyes were. She had a creamy complexion with a slight pink hue. I wondered if that pinkness was her natural coloring or because she was embarrassed. There was a tightness around her mouth that gave away some tension. Good—maybe she’d scoot on outta here and leave me alone.

I told her, “This is the room where we have our weekly meeting. It has to be large to accommodate our numbers.”

“Really?” she asked. “How many members does your club have?”

“We don’t disclose that kind of information to outsiders for security reasons.”

“Oh, I see. What kind of things do you talk about?” As if catching herself, she did a quick course correction. “I’m not interested in learning all the top-secret inner workings of your club. I mean stuff like, do you have a formal meeting structure where all your brothers give an update on their shenanigans and plan out charity events twice a year?”

I leaned against the doorframe and crossed my arms over my chest. “It figures that a woman like you would research our club. Yeah, we normally do two charity events a year. Last year, we raised fifty-three thousand dollars for charity.”

“What charities does the Dark Slayers MC support?”

I gave her my most terrifying glare. “Does it fuckin’ matter?”

She flung back fearlessly, “Not big on ice breakers or making polite conversation, are you?”

“I’m not in the mood to fucking shoot the shit with you. Come on, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

She followed me to the kitchen. I could hear the click-clack of her high-heeled shoes on the floor as she struggled to keep up. I just kept walking, intent on not making this easy for her. When we came barreling through the door, there were two prospects preparing lunch.

“This is where the prospects make food. The brothers eat the food. Any questions?”

“Why do prospects make the food?”

“Because they’re fuckin’ prospects. Their job is to prove they operate as part of a team and to do what needs to be done around the clubhouse.”

She looked up at me with a wry look on her face. “So, you were obviously a prospect at one time. Did you cook for everyone?”

One of the prospects snorted a laugh, and I didn’t even take offense. I answered her question gruffly, “Yeah, I made food. Burned everything in sight. Good times. You ready to see the bar?”

“Wait. This is a huge building. You were supposed to give me a tour, not show me three rooms.”

I sighed, already tired of this woman and her stupid questions. “The security room is off-limits. You don’t need to visit the sex club downstairs or the guest suites upstairs ‘cause if I have my way, you’re never coming back here. Plus, there are a couple of other areas that you don’t even need to know exist in this building.” I was thinking of our lockup where we kept prisoners and the armory.

“Fine, lead the way to the bar.”

“Great, ‘cause I’m gonna need to throw back some whiskey if I’m gonna have lunch with you.”

One of the prospects popped his head up. “You want steak? We’ve got that thin-cut steak you like so much.”

“Yes, a Philly club sandwich would be amazing. Our guest will have the same.”

I smiled on the inside when Riley made a disgruntled sound, probably because I’d ordered food for her without asking what she wanted. Truth be told, I was being all kinds of abrasive, ‘cause I’d been forced into this situation against my will. Now, I knew I shouldn’t take that out on Riley, but I almost couldn’t help myself.

When we got to the bar, Rosie grinned at me but then her eyes went to Riley. “How wonderful. Another redhead. You’re in fine company here, girl. There are several of us, more than you might imagine in one club.”

“Really?” Riley cooed. “How many of us are there?”

“There are three club girls and five brothers,” Rosie said, completely ignoring the ‘cut it’ motion I was doing with my hand.

Riley’s tone turned excited. “Five. That’s a lot. Out of how many brothers?”

---