Page 65 of Clash
My self-esteem… Clash. Shit! Why am I even thinking about that money-losing bastard? It’s not like I care about him. He’s an asshole, and the whole reason I’m still stuck in Texas.
Maybe I do need to go on a date—anything to erase my memory of the infuriating biker who was constantly on my mind.
And he was. All one thousand four hundred and forty minutes of my day.
“I’m gonna call Walter first thing in the morning and set something up for tomorrow night. It’ll be good for you. Trust me.”
She gave me a strange smile; one I couldn’t quite read. What was it with old women thinking that men were the cure to everything? So far, men had only ever brought me pain and hardships.
Fuck them.
Fuck them all.
“I’m not too sure this is a good idea…” I started to say, only to be cut off by her walking out of the room. It was classic Bess. Commanding the room with her wise words, and leaving before you could argue with her. The woman was crafty—too crafty it seemed.
It’s just one date… how bad can it actually be?
23
She saw me.
I felt it in my soul. The curtains wavered ever so slightly, and I’d know that silhouette anywhere. Gina knew I was out here watching her… or she at least knew someone was out here watching.
Fuck!
It didn’t deter me from standing watch over her, or ignoring all the calls I got from Snyder throughout the night.
He was pissed—rightfully so since I blatantly disregarded his orders. It wasn’t very VP of me. Then again, I wasn’t really meant for the VP role. I should’ve been Prez, everyone was just blind to it but me.
After the fifteenth call, I finally gave in, answering it just as the sun started to peek over the horizon.
“What?” I grumped, pissed off that he wouldn’t stop calling me.
“Finally, fucker. Where the hell are you?”
“Out.”
“That doesn’t tell me shit. Where the fuck are you? You know better than to just go rogue like this. You’re not going nomad on me, are you?”
“You’re not that lucky.”
“I ran by your place, you weren’t there.”
Figures. Glad I didn’t go home. I don’t want to see his stupid face.
“Shocker,” I said, smirking. He couldn’t see it, but he could probably hear it in my voice. I was practically laughing.
“Clash, what is going on with you? Everyone says you keep disappearing. It’s making people uneasy.”
“I’ve got shit to do outside the club, Prez.”
Snyder sighed. “Like what? What could be more important than your club?”
“You wouldn’t fucking understand.”
The sad part was, he could. He was probably the only one in the club that could truly understand. But I wasn’t going to let him know that.
“I’m worried about you, Clash. When are you going to get over this grudge you have against me and Shasta?”
