Page 27 of Thunder

“It wasn’t a handy, I just wanted to know what I would be working with.”

The two other women in the room damn near vacuumed the place with their sharp intakes.

Why?“Oh, fuck, I remember.”

13

THUNDER

Thank fuck he’d been busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest, so his time spent obsessing over Andrea was kept to a minimum.

Sin City Shooterz Guns & Range was beyond packed from the second he opened the doors in the morning and locked them in the evening. It was always like that when cowboys were in town for various events.

It was the hours between the closing up shop and opening again in the morning that were the problem. That time was the Andrea show running on a loop. It was worse than the first time. At least back then, he only wanted to fuck her again. Now he waffled between that and finding out what her game was, stopping it, and seeing her again. Yes, and fucking her.

Thunder wanted to believe there was a logical explanation for everything but wasn’t that naïve. Shit didn’t work out like that in real life. Movies made people believe that it could all be wrapped up in a couple of hours with everyone happy with the way it played out.

Life was messier than that and took a hell of a lot longer to clean up. There was rarely a resolution that made everyone happy. Someone was always fucked, and not in the pleasurable way.

The waitress brought them another round. Thunder mindlessly drank. Not tasting, not watching the stage or tits. His body was there, but his mind wasn’t numb enough to stay with him.

“Day-yum,” Trip swore. “Sexy Lexi is looking even better with the new ink. Shit, your girl is talented.”

“Not my girl, man. I’ve told you that repeatedly. Seems each and every one of you have got a hearing problem.”

“Could be if you wanted her to be.”

Thunder slammed his mug down on the scarred wood surface, sloshing foam and beer all over. “Never gonna happen, brother. Can’t fuck around with pussy I can’t trust.”

Trip imitated Thunder. Slamming down his beer and scowling. “First, brother. Save your mister tough guy bullshit where it applies to Andy. I was with you one too many times while you were trying to find her with nothing to go on. Second, stop with this pussy shit. You don’t even refer to the club girls or strippers the way you seem dead set on degrading a chick who, from my perspective, is the sort who could handle this life. That’s rare.” Finally, he stopped to take a breath.

“And, whatever number I was on, just swallow your fucking pride and ask Lexi for her number. Call her and ask her to go grab a bite or go for a fucking ride, or hell, even to give you a blow job. Something, because this broody emo shit is getting fucking old.”

Trip snatched his beer and angrily drank. Thunder didn’t really want to get into his feelings and shit at all. But certainly not while Andrea’s best friend was shaking her tits less than twenty feet in front of them. It was either that or his brothers were going to kill him.

“She lied. Not for any discernable reason, either. Which the more I think about it, the more it means trouble for us. I don’t know her angle, but she has to have one.”

Trip remained silent, just looking at him. You’d think the safety of the club would matter most, but apparently not.

Fuck. None of his brothers knew about Melissa or the fucking number she did on his head. But if he had any hope of getting his brothers off his back, it was time.

“Melissa and I had been together for a couple of years when I returned from overseas the final time. That was… well, that was when we lost Heisman. I was all kinds of fucked-up. But she was there. Everything I needed, or so it seemed.”

Thunder raised his hand in the air and gave a loud whistle that could be heard over the music. It only took the waitress seconds to deliver a bottle of bourbon and fresh beers. One of the perks of being a Phantom in a Phantom club.

Two shots down and he continued. “Long story short, she was taking care of me but would lie about the most ridiculous shit. She was gaslighting me. She’d been sleeping with my commander since before my second deployment. He was feeding her all the info she needed to push me over the edge. It was supposed to be me who died instead of Heisman. He was trying to off me over there as if there weren’t already enough fuckers wanting to take me out.”

Thunder didn’t intend this level of pain sharing his shit. One minute he was uncomfortable talking about it but mostly numb to it, the next, his eyes stung and his soul bled. Someone he trusted implicitly, two someones, and they wanted him to eat his fucking pistol.

“Fuck!” he ground out. Trip stood, snapped his fingers, and whistled at Buzz. He gave the wind it up and shut it down signal. In no time, customers and employees filed out while grumbling. One trusted waitress, one trusted dancer, and security outside was who was left. They knew the drill and complied.

Trip sat back down and didn’t say a word. Just sat and drank with Thunder. Exactly what a brother should do. Once Thunder had his shit together, he thanked him.

“No need, brother,” was all he responded with.

“So, while I’d love nothing more than to have Andrea back in bed, I can’t do that until I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that she means no harm. I can’t know that until I know why she is acting like we never fucked.”

“I’m sure you’ve already thought about it, but could she be embarrassed? Pound said she grabbed your dick right there in front of God and queen.”

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