Page 11 of Jacob

Get your dick out of her mouth, put the lollipop back in. Bowie’s here.

He closed the phone and took another deep pull off the Marlboro. Stowing the cell away in his pocket, he took a moment to prepare himself for the meeting. It wasn’t like they were trying to go unseen. They weren’t undercover or anything.

As a matter of fact, Bowie seeing them meant he’d know Odin’s Fury was watching, though, Jacob doubted the man was stupid enough to think they wouldn’t be after all this time. They weren’t the first brothers to roll through the Roughneck Riders territory.

Pushing off the crates of booze, he made his way out of the storage room. Once he closed the door behind him, he scanned the bar for her. He’d been scanning bars for her for far longer than he should have. She wouldn’t have been legally able to get into them, but he’d still looked.

At least tonight he knew she’d be there. Unable to spot her, he headed to his table. No need to keep his brother and the president of the other club waiting. His parents had taught himsomesemblance of manners.

Making his way through the mixed crowd of bikers, wannabes, hangers-on women, and just people out for a good time, his mind wandered to Sparrow, and what she’d been doing since she’d written that letter in his pocket. He pinched the cigarette between his fingers as he pulled it from his lips and curled his hand so as not to burn anyone accidentally as he walked past them.

He hadn’t been in the storage room long, but the bar sure got busy in his absence. With each person he passed, he couldn’t help but wonder if they had a connection to Sparrow. Were they a friend? A former lover? A current lover?

When he passed a member of the Roughneck Riders, he gave the man a head nod in acknowledgment. The man returned it before turning back to his conversation. Was he Sparrow’s Ol’ Man? Was she someone’s Ol’ Lady?

The idea made his palms itch, ready to knock someone out. Obviously, he didn’t expect Sparrow to have sat there pining for him. He didn’t think she should be locked away in some tower somewhere until he came back. Clearly, a woman as attractive as Sparrow had dated. There’s no chance in hell she hadn’t had a boyfriend or two. He could deal with that.

Sure, he may check up on the guy. Jacob might do a thing or two to ensure he dotes on her like she deserves—keep her flush with lollipops at all times. Yeah, he might just pay him a visit to be sure the boyfriend was on the up and up.

Hell, he could handle it if she had a boyfriendnow, but if she was an Ol’ Lady, some guy’sproperty—hecouldn’tdeal with that. That was sacred. You didn’t mess with another man’s property. There were two things in a biker’s world that you just didn’t touch: his bike and his Ol’ Lady. She was essentially his wife—to some men an Ol’ Lady was more than a wife—she was better than a wife.

His stomach churned with the idea that Sparrow could be anyone’s Ol’ Lady. He hated the idea more than the bile rising in his throat. Thankfully, he didn’t have time to stew on it. Club business came first. Always.

Plunking his body down into the wooden chair made it creak. Jacob eyed the disgusting swill on the table. “Why did you order me another one?” he growled.

“I don’t think you’ve given it enough of a chance. You need to appreciate the finer beers,” Dash said before he tilted his own bottle of noxious liquid masquerading as beer into his mouth.

Jacob rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly before taking in Bowie. He hadn’t seen him in a while, but the gray at his temples had spread to streaks throughout the long dark hair he wore loose. Strain lined his face as his brown eyes shifted between the two men.

“Didn’t know you all were coming this way,” he said with a wheezy cough.

Leaning back, raising an arm, he got the attention of the passing waitress. Jacob looked up, startled to see Sparrow.

“Get me some whiskey, doll,” Bowie said to Sparrow with his hand on her forearm.

Watching her intently, Jacob tried to assess their relationship as he took the final drag of his cigarette before dropping the butt in an empty beer bottle. She flicked her multi-hued green eyes from Bowie to Jacob and back again in a nervous gesture. She smiled, but it wasn’t genuine when she agreed to serve the older man’s drink before walking away.

Turning back to the men at the table, Bowie hacked a few times and cleared his throat. Once the coughing fit subsided, he took his chin in his hand, stroking it slightly. “What business does Odin’s Fury have in this neck of the woods?”

“Monty’s checking in to see how the maid’s doing,” Dash said, using their not-so-subtle code for checking up on cleaning out the messy club. Odin’s Fury was interested in the territory, not in the mess Bowie had made of the Roughneck Riders.

“Unfortunately, the poison runs deep,” Bowie admitted. “Taking a hell of a lot longer than I’d anticipated when these discussions started.”

Out of respect for their clubs’ shared history, patching over was on the table. However, it wasn’t guaranteed. Both clubs had been around since the end of the Vietnam War and over the years had done deals where each club had benefited. One such deal involved the running of firearms through Ohio by Odin’s Fury up into Ontario. The few times they’d done it had been lucrative as shit, and Monty wanted to own the lane.

The Roughneck Riders stood in the way. So, essentially, Odin’s Fury offered to buy them out. Except Bowie had to clean his house first.

“Your club’s in a bad way.” Dash cut right to the chase. “We can help salvage it if you do what Monty wants. Otherwise…” the bald biker trailed off, leaving the sentiment heavy and hanging in the air.Otherwise, Odin’s Fury would take the territory by force. No one wanted a war, but it would happen. Everyone knew who’d win.

While the two men spoke, Jacob’s gaze followed Sparrow as she weaved through the tables and customers to the bar for Bowie’s drink. Her hips swiveled as she dodged someone looking to grope her ass and he grinned a little in pride at the maneuver.Savvy woman. The way she moved had his mind going deep in the gutter.

Her small tray, which had once been empty, soon boasted a collection of empty beer bottles as she scooped them up off the high top tables she walked past without interrupting the conversations. She impressed him once again with her ability to balance so many.

Splitting his focus between listening to the two bikers discussing strategy for ridding bad apples from the bunch and watching her, he shifted in his chair. Absentmindedly, he picked up the beer bottle and nearly spat out the foul liquid as it spilled into his mouth. It took a conscious effort to swallow the beer.

Even with his divided focus, the back of his neck began to tingle. The feeling someone watched him tickled his senses. Breaking his gaze from Sparrow, he took in the president of the Ohio club who met his gaze, looking none-too-pleased.

The older man’s jaw ticked as he cracked his knuckles. Another forced swallow of beer had Jacob fighting a cough before he returned to watching the woman he coveted. This time, though, he tried to be less obvious. “The blonde there.” He pointed to a woman wearing a tight pair of jeans and a tube top nursing a beer near the bar. “Club property?”

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