Page 93 of Cold Hard Truth

Besides, debating whether or not Steel should be trusted isn’t my biggest concern. It’s that his club needs to be involved at all. That we’ve once more come to this point when everyone still around here remembers how it turned sour the first time.

“So, how’s the living situation?” Blaze asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.

“Fine.”

“Just fine?” He puts out his cigarette, grinning at me. “I’ll pray for you, brother. Because I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”

Raking my hands through my hair, I tip my head back. I’d like to lie to Blaze and say I don’t need his prayers, but we both know I do.

“Thanks,” I grumble, turning toward the clubhouse. “I’m going to go find Kane and get Lyla the fuck out of here.”

“Sure thing.” Blaze laughs as I walk past him. “Good luck with that.”

Kane’s already suspicious, and now that I’ve fucked his daughter again, I don’t know how much longer I can keep this shit to myself.

Stepping into the clubhouse, I’m met with absolute madness. The music is so loud it’s mind-numbing, and the bass rocks the floors. People are wasted and stumbling around, and it’s not even midnight yet.

Twisted Kings have always known how to party, but it’s devolved over the years. The entire club has. It allstarted when the council members started fucking up, and the families started moving out of the neighborhood. The club became less about family and more about having a good time.

It’s a blast if you want to forget reality, but it’s slowly eating away at the club inside and out. The wear and tear show on the walls, on the men in the room. It’s a trainwreck.

Glancing around, I find Kane exactly where I expect him to be, at the bar with a patch bunny on his lap. She’s probably younger than Lyla and it makes me wonder how I ever used to look up to him. I remember watching my father run the club beside Kane and thinking they had it all.

Now it just seems pathetic.

Steel slides a shot in Kane’s direction, and even if his lap is empty, he’s surrounded by girls. At twenty-nine, he’s young for an MC president, and I’m pretty sure any of the girls here would leave town and be his old lady in an instant if he showed them an ounce of attention.

“Sage.” Steel tips his chin up at me when I stop beside them.

He’s never been welcoming toward me, but it’s more pronounced now. Unlike Kane, he doesn’t consider me worthy of the club’s favors when I never patched in, regardless of who my father was. He never agreed with the fact that Kane involves me in club shit. But unless it impacts the Twisted Kings name and reputation, he lets each president run their clubs as they see fit, so he doesn’t do anythingabout it.

I nod at Steel then Kane, who’s staring at the drink in his hand. He spins the whiskey around, sloshing it along the inside of the glass. And when he finally looks up at me, his gaze is ice-cold.

He smacks the ass of the girl in his lap, and she yelps, letting out a giggle and taking the hint to hop off and disappear.

“You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on my daughter.”

“I am.”

“Then how does someone have pictures of her at the shop? Not just that, but at a club. Drinking. Partying. What the fuck, Sage?”

His eyes narrow, and even if his voice is low, his tone draws the attention of everyone nearby.

Kane lifts his drink and drains it, slamming it back down, before turning to face me. “If something happens to her—”

“It won’t.”

“But if it does—”

I step toward him. “I fucking said it won’t.”

His jaw clenches, but I don’t back down. Because I’d let a hell of a lot of shit happen. But no one is getting to Lyla.

“I’m reconsidering her housing.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I laugh. “That’s why you dragged her out here in the middle of the fucking night. To have her crash at the clubhouse?”

He narrows his gaze but doesn’t answer.

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