Page 40 of Up in Flames

I grunt and turn, heading for the door. If I drank, right now is when I’m sure I would need one. If I wasn’t so hung up on Makaylie, I’d go into the parlor and have my way with one of the Bachelorettes.

But I can’t even bring myself to do that.

So what the fuck is there for me to do here?

This place is pissing me off.

So, instead of going to the parlor to unwind, I head to my office, leaving Trap behind as I storm past all the other rooms. Walking into my office, the room is small and stark. It’s only here to store paperwork and my computer. I sit, turning on my computer to play a game of solitaire. Not the epic night of partying I’m sure Rodberg and Trap had in mind, but I have Makaylie on the brain, and while she’s at her apartment with that asshole, Joey, I can’t fucking think straight.

All I can think about is Makaylie.

And at this rate, it will do my head in being away from her.

I hate that I don’t havecontrolin this situation.

I need to find a way to regaincontrol.

I need to get Makaylie back in my life without forcing my control issues so hard that I break her.

She’s delicate.

A man like me and a woman like her?

Something is inevitably bound to break.

CHAPTER TEN

CAIN

While sitting in my office, my mind is numb from a couple of hours of solitaire. I feel restless after taking my anger out on Malone and his kid.

I need a drink, a fuck, or maybe beat someone senseless.

The first is off the cards, the second impossible because of that damn cute little blonde invading my brain, and the third may be doable and highly fucking likely if anyone pisses me off enough.

As I lose yet another game, frustration overwhelms me as I groan and shove my mouse across my desk so hard it flies off the other side, crashing to the floor. “Fuck’s sake,” I growl under my breath, then slowly rise from my chair to pick up the damn broken mouse.

My cell rings, so I turn back to my desk to see it’s Hoodoo from NOLA Defiance MC, and I raise my brow. Normally, it’s Hurricane, their club president, calling me, not their medic.Odd,I think. Curiosity gets the better of me, so I scoop up my cell and swipe the screen, slumping back into my seat. “Hoodoo? Everything all right?”

“Hey, brother. Sorry for the unexpected call… how’s shit?” he asks.

Sitting back in my chair, I relax a little. “You know how life is… same shit, different day.”

He chuckles heavily. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Something I can help you or the club with?” I ask, wanting to cut the small talk and get to the damn point.

“Yeah, so the club’s in a bind, and we wanna come talk to the Bachelors for a handout. Can I drive over to talk to you in person?”

The thing is, NOLA Defiance MC supply the Baton Rouge Bachelors with drugs. They have the biggest poppy farm in the whole of Louisiana. We need them to keep ourselves running.

So iftheyhave a problem—wehave a problem.

If they come knocking, we fucking answer.

“When?”

“I’m thinking now. Should be there in an hour. That suit?”

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