Page 25 of Diablo

“Does it have anything to do with her?”

My stomach plummeted. The picture showed Stevie and me seated at the bar, leaning in close, my hand on the back of her stool. It was obvious I wasn’t keeping my distance, let alone displaying any of the same animosity I had when the Desert Howlers offered their apology.

“Where did you get that?” I asked.

Wrong thing to say. It sounded guilty as hell, even to my own ears. As if I was sneaking around behind my club’s back.

On second thought, in a way, that’s exactly what I’d done.

“It was taped to my front door this morning,” Brewer said. “Plain white envelope. No handwriting. No note of any kind. Just the picture. Apparently, someone thought I should know about it.”

The pointed look he gave me meant I should have been the one to tell him. It was easy to figure out who that anonymous person had been to inform Brewer so graciously about his Prospect’s whereabouts.

LeBlanc was poisoning my support system.

If I tried to turn against him, he would make sure I was the one caught red-handed while he got away scot-free. And there would be no one to bail me out. Stevie wouldn’t back me up—I’d burned that bridge to the ground. My club wouldn’t risk their necks for someone who wasn’t loyal to them.

“I don’t have to tell you how bad this looks, Diablo,” Brewer said.

“I know,” I replied.

“Please tell me you didn’t get into her pants. It was just a drink. You talked, that was all.”

I clenched my teeth and pressed my lips tightly together. Lying to save my ass in this situation would only dig my grave deeper.

Brewer sighed, swearing under his breath.

“I never thought a Desert Howler would turn your head. But I can’t have you caught between two clubs.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” I said. “I broke it off with Stevie.”

…broke it off…

I made it sound like Stevie and I were a regular thing. A relationship.

It was just sex. Had I hoped for more than a one-time hookup? Sure. I wouldn’t complain if we had settled into an enemies-with-benefits type of situation.

We hadn’t though. Stevie and I were nothing to each other.

Maybe if I kept telling myself that, I would start to believe it eventually.

Brewer studied me for several moments.

“You’re missing the point. So, we won’t be taking the vote.”

The air punched out of my lungs in a rush.

“Why?”

Brewer jerked a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the clubhouse.

“Do you want to explain to every man in that meeting how you fucked a Howler? Or did you forget the part where one of them stabbed you and terrorized our entire town less than a year ago? You’re thinking below the belt, Diablo. So, put your dick away and try again in another year if you’re really serious about earning your patch. At this point, I have my doubts.”

That hurt. That burned like a white-hot iron poker to my heart.

“Are you saying…?”

Brewer leveled a firm stare on me. I blew out a breath, shaking my head in disbelief.

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