Page 49 of Pink Poison

“Earth to Graves,” Mack says, dragging me back to our conversation.

“Right.” I clear my throat. “I want to look into the names Remy and Aiden.”

“What about the gangs?”

I slide from the stool, ready to walk across the lot to the chop shop and open it for the day. “We’ll have to ask around. Lennon probably knows a thing or two about ‘em.”

Mack sighs as he follows my lead towards the front door. “I don’t like the idea of cashing in with Lennon.”

“I don’t like it either,” I admit. “But I owe this club answers, and if he has them, I’ll pay the price for it.”

Our conversation stalls momentarily as we step outside. The late morning humidity clings to the air, wrapping itself around my skin. Beads of sweat dot my forehead while Mack clicks his lighter behind me. “We’ll table the idea of reaching out to Lennon,” he asserts. “That's something the club should vote on.”

I nod in agreement. He’s right; this should be something the MC votes on as a whole. I’m not in the business of running a one-man show, and I won’t start now. “We’ll bring it to the table.”

“Works for me.” He exhales, blowing the bitter scent of a burning cigarette away from me.

“Hurry up with that. These bikes won’t dismantle themselves.”

Chapter seventeen

Kash

I listen to Graves and Mack walk out of the clubhouse, their conversation fading with them. Curiosity has me grabbing my cut from the kitchen countertop and slipping it over my arms. My gut is telling me that something came up. It might be nothing, but there’s a nagging voice in the back of my mind that tells me I need to find out. Walking out of the clubhouse, I ignore Mack’s loaded glare while he smokes a cigarette by the front door. Graves and I may have patched things up, but Mack is a whole different beast.

“Where’s Graves?” I ask, scuffing my boot on the ground.

He exhales, blowing smoke with each word. “He’s in the garage.”

“Did something come up?”

Dropping his cigarette to the ground, he snubs it out with his steel toe before crossing his arms over his chest. “Yep.”

“Care to fill me in?” I grunt.

“We’re bringing something to the table later.” He swipes the sweat gathering at his temple with the back of his hand. “Make sure you’re here for it.”

The muscle above my lip twitches at his tiresome tone. Seems whatever he and Graves talked about took a little out of him, that or booze for breakfast isn’t the best meal to start the day. “You know I’ll be here.”

“Do I?” he questions, as if he doesn’tbelieveme.

“I’m going to say this to you once,” I spit. “Don’t ever question my loyalty to this club again.”

His brows furrow at my brisk words as they lash from my tongue. I dare him to try and point fingers over it. I’ve had my face beat to hell. My president accuses me of choosing pussy over my brothers. And now my VP's distrust—like I haven’t put my ass on the line for them every single day since I patched in. “Just making sure our priorities are aligned,” he clips.

You have to be fucking kidding me.

“Fuck off, Mack. If you have something to say, say it with your chest.”

“Hey!” Graves shouts from the garage, prompting Mack and I to turn our attention to him. “Get your ass in here, Mack.”

Shaking my head, I walk to where I parked my bike on the lot last night after going back to Memento for it.

The engine roars as I speed down the busy street leading to Stevie’s hotel. A sleek, blacked-out Mercedes catches my attention as I round the turn to the parking lot. Turning my head slightly, I make out the custom license plate—HILL.

Stevie.

Pulling my bike into a parking space, I kill the engine and throw my helmet over the handle before kicking down the stand. My strides are long as I race to the front entrance of the hotel and push my way around the revolving door. I stomp through the lobby, brushing past a group of patrons standing in the middle of the room. Normally, I'd feel bad for my lack of manners, but I don't see them as anything but an obstacle in my path.

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