Page 24 of Daddy Issues

“That’s right, you’re his problem now, aren’t you?” But I grinned at Jester. Aeverything’s okaysmile. Then I sighed and tapped my foot with impatience. “I don’t have all night.”

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for everything. We’ve done a lot of fucked up shit to each other over the years, but you deserved better.”

Most of the fucked-up shit he’d done. I didn’t point that out.

“Well, thanks.” There was too much between us to be stitched together with a simple apology. He was smart enough to know that. “I need to go.”

He didn’t stop me.

Puck wasn’t in the clubhouse so I assumed he was still outside.

Before I could make it to the door, Ghost trotted after me. “Be careful, okay? You being back has the patch bunnies circling, talking shit, and spreading rumors since Desert Lights. David’s ole lady, man…” He lingered over each description as if I’d forgotten.

Nobody, especially not any of those bitches, should know anything at all. Hell,hedidn’t. Because the only Kings there that night sat around a table.

“What are you trying to say, Zach?” I used his first name, ignoring his position, albeit lowly, in the MC.

“It’s not the reputation you need, everyone saying you’re screwing the entire table.”

“Are you serious right now?” I spun, angry. This bullshit from him is the reason I’d stayed away so long.

Maybe Ghost didn’t shoulder the blame for every shitty thing in my life, but he had shoveled a lot of it. “The jealous shit never suited you.”

Ghost balked, as if he couldn’t believe I’d say that to him, like telling me rumors I’d already figured out was somehow putting him on my side.

“Jealous? You want to fuck half the Desert Kings, be my guest. I was just looking out for you.”

“Fuck you.” I snorted, shoved past him, and used my hip to open the door. It wasn’t a busy weekend, not yet, so there were maybe ten people around the big fire. Mostly Desert Kings. Some were in chairs with their ole ladies on their laps.

Then there was Puck. He stood at the fire, gazing into it, arms folded across his chest. In silhouette, he looked almost contemplative.

As the heavy steel door slammed shut with a clang, most of them turned, including the big guy. He was moving before I could get to the fire. “You alright?”

“Jesus, what is it with you guys? I’m not a broken plate or some shit. I’m fine.” I dug around in my pocket and pulled out the jewelry I’d bought and thrust it at him. “I don’t want cow udders. And they are starting to hurt.”

He rubbed his lips together to keep from smiling.

“Not in a good way.” I punched his stomach harder than I should have, but he didn’t even flinch.

“Come on.” He draped an arm over my shoulder and led me back in, stopping at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and the bathroom most of us girls used. “Let me grab my shit.”

Over near the stage, where he often set up his station, there was a cabinet with drawers. He snatched a bag from there and moved through the crowd back to me. Or rather, he parted the crowd, most people choosing to step out of his way before he took the first step.

It was oddly sexy. Then again, everything he did was. Little tendrils of anticipation coiled low in my stomach.

“Where you want to do it?” I asked as he started up the steps behind me.

“Sweetheart, I can do it anywhere.”

I snapped my head around to get caught up in that same hazy, heated look he’d had at the tattoo shop. I swallowed hard. Already the patch bunnies had their heads together, whispering. Then I caught sight of Ghost over his shoulder. The face he made saidI told you so.

Bored biker groupies skulked around us. Fuck them.

I flipped off Ghost and marched up the rest of the steps, down the hall, and into the farthest bathroom with the big counter by the sink. A favorite of the coke whores, but clean because it was the one Dylan always used when she was here.

Shutting the bathroom door did more than drown out the music and chatter. The thin wood hid me from all the stares. Thetidy room smelled of lemony cleaner, likely thanks to Dylan, and gave the impression of privacy. Except, I clearly wasn’t alone. Puck’s sheer size ate up most of the space, forcing me to stand close. My thigh pressed against his, my stomach against his groin.

That brief contact turned me inside out.

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