Walking into Charley's, I pass by the bar when Kinsley, serving drinks, calls out, "Hey, Bella. Charley said Logan was looking for you."
I stop. "Did my husband say what he wanted?"
She nods. "Yeah, Reid and Quinn ran out of burgers and chicken, so he was making a run to the store. He said he texted you."
I reach for my back pocket but realize I must have left my cell in the car.
"Thanks, Kinley. Will you let Charley know those invoices he needed are over here?" I round the bar and set the papers the delivery guy gave me on the shelf.
"Will do," she calls out, and returns to serving a group of men waiting for their beers.
When I walk back outside, I head across the lot to where my car is parked. Opening the passenger door, I find my cell sitting on the console. Tapping the screen, I note I have two missed calls and one text from Logan thirty minutes ago, letting me know he was making a food run. I'm just about to call him back when I look across the parking lot to see him back at his post, taking donations.
Over the sound of music and laughter, I hear the rumble of several motorcycles rolling into the parking lot. I straighten and slip my phone into the back pocket of my shorts as I take in the newcomers. Six motorcycles park about thirty feet from where I'm standing. Four of the bikers have women with them, and though I don't recognize any of them, I plaster a smile on my face and start in their direction to greet them. My smile slips when I notice a few men climb off their bikes and stagger.
"What do we have here?" the front man slurs, taking a flask from the inside of his cut, screwing the top off, and taking a swig. His lady friend, who is plastered to his side, giggles. I take in her attire and think she is more suited for a stripper pole and not a family function. I'm no prude and can appreciate a bedazzled bra and ass-baring denim shorts as much as the next person, but there is a time and place for that kind of getup. I survey the rest of the group and conclude the other ladies are dressed much the same. Their vibe is off, and I’m not feeling good about these bikers showing up. Not surprisingly, our guys are thinking the same, because, as I make my approach, I look over my shoulder to see Jake, Riggs, Gabriel, and Nova are headed this way, and they do not look happy.
"Gentleman," I greet the new arrivals, but the sloppy drunk in front of me not-so-gently shrugs off the woman hanging on his side and cuts me off.
"Goddamn, we don't have any whores that look like you back home. How you doin' sweetheart?"
I'd like nothing more than to dick punch the asshole for insinuating I'm a whore, but I decide the most intelligent thing to do is keep my cool. His lady friend, however, doesn't look happy with her man casting her aside. She gives me a dirty look, and I ignore her glare. I'm so glad Logan hasn't caught sight of these bikers.
"I'm sorry, guys, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave," I tell them.
The man who made the snide remark moments ago is no longer smiling. "The fuck you talkin' about? We just got here."
A couple of his buddies join the huddle when Jake, Riggs, Gabriel, and Nova appear.
"What the fuck is goin' on here?" Jake barks, and the biker in front of me gives me a dirty look before directing his attention at Jake.
"I'm here for the party, brother, but your whore here says we have to leave."
An audible growl comes from Gabriel. The fury coming off the rest of the men is palpable. I ignored the son of a bitch calling me a whore the first time, but I'm not letting the second one slide.
"Look, asshole. If you call me a whore one more time, I'll dick punch you right before sticking my size seven shoe right up your ass. If I say you need to get your drunk asses back on your bikes and leave, then that's what you're going to do."
Behind me, Glory tisks. "And ruin a perfect pair of Jimmy Choo wedges?"
Caught up in the moment, I didn't notice we’d gained an audience. Standing next to Glory is Demetri, and just behind him is his right-hand man, Victor. "I came just in time to talk some sense into you."
I grin at Glory and shake my head. "What would I do without you?"
"You'd ruin a six-hundred-dollar pair of shoes is what you'd do."
"Are you bitches fuckin' stupid or something?" The shrill voice causes me to turn my attention away from Glory. I look at the nasty piece of work standing before me with her hands on her hips. Apparently, she's decided to come to her man's defense. I recognize her type and know a ratchet bitch when I see one. They toss out insults in hopes of starting a cat fight. Defending her man is the last thing on her mind. She's jealous, which puts her nonexistent panties in a bunch.
"If you're waiting for me to be offended, you'll be waiting a long time. Giving a fuck doesn't really go with my outfit."
3
LOGAN
I take the check Donovan hands to me and look at the number of zeros behind the number five in the amount box, paid to New Hope, and damn near choke on my beer. I look from the check to Donavan. "Maybe you should double-check those numbers?" I raise my brow in question.
Donovan takes a drink of his cold beer. "It's correct."
I look back at the check, toss it into the cash box, and lock it, then I stand and extend my hand across the table. "Very generous donation. New Hope and the club appreciate your contribution." I shake his hand.