White Heat (Lost Kings MC #5)

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White Heat (Lost Kings MC #5) Page 3

by Autumn Jones Lake


  “Mmm, suddenly I feel like staying home,” she murmurs as she pulls away.

  “Don’t tempt me.” My hand reaches out to finger the silver metal beading dotting the shoulders of her dress. “This is interesting.”

  Her shoulders lift and she glances away. “I bought it a while ago but haven’t had anywhere to wear it yet.”

  All right, I feel a little shitty about that. Don’t take my girl out as often as I should. She never complains about it either. And I know how much she likes getting dolled up. “I should take you out more.”

  “Sorry. That’s not why I said it,” she says in a rush, making me feel worse.

  “I know. Just an observation. Next time we go out, will you wear this for me?”

  “Sure.”

  She says it quick, as if she’ll never have to worry about honoring my request because I’m not going to take her anywhere.

  Guess that means I need to prove her wrong.

  “Rock! We’re ready!” Wrath shouts down the hall.

  “Give me another kiss.”

  This time she’s quick about it.

  “Text me when you get downtown.”

  “Okay.”

  Guys are all waiting for me and I don’t feel a lick of guilt. I’ve certainly waited on their asses plenty of times.

  “Let’s do this.”

  Wrath shuts the war room doors behind us and we get down to business.

  Sparky’s finishing up drying time on a new crop which we’ll be delivering to Green Street Crew tomorrow night. “We’re all set for that?” I eye the guys who’ll be joining me for that adventure and get a round of yeses.

  I point at Wrath first, which raises a few eyebrows.

  “Gym’s good. Got Twitch working there, cleaning after hours.”

  “You trust him?”

  “Yeah. He’s a good kid. Got a fucked-up home life. No different than any of us had.”

  “Okay. Anything else?”

  He shakes his head.

  Bricks lifts his chin. “No fights?”

  “Nah, I think I’m done.”

  Z and I are the only ones who don’t react as if he said he planned to take up stripping in his spare time.

  “Dex, you’re up.”

  He sits forward and grins. “The two Viper chicks you okay’d? Mariella didn’t work out. Chick had no I.D. and looked about fifteen.”

  “Christ,” I mutter. Fucking president of the Vipers talking me into that shit still pisses me off. “What’d you do?”

  Z pipes up. “Sent her home. We were nice about it, but I ain’t risking our legit business on that nonsense.”

  “Good. Ransom has a problem with it, I’ll handle it. What about the other one?”

  Z and Dex share a look I don’t care for before Dex answers. “She’s quiet. Hot, good dancer, but keeps to herself.”

  “Good. Keep your dicks out of her,” I warn.

  Z has the nerve to act offended. Dex just rolls his eyes.

  “Anything else from there?”

  “Money took a dip. End of the semester slow down. I think it will pick back up during wedding season,” Z reports with a smirk.

  “I’m sure.”

  Teller relays his usual thorough money report. Everyone’s interested in the bottom line, which he knows, so of course he takes his time getting to the good part.

  Murphy’s agitated about the run he’s trying to organize to Virginia Beach. “Can’t find a large enough block of rooms.”

  “Should have started looking earlier, dick,” Wrath snarks.

  “No shit, brother. With everything happening, I wasn’t sure we’d be able to go or not.”

  “Can’t guys just double-up?” Dex asks.

  Z punches Dex in the arm. “What do you want to do, put a sock on the doorknob?”

  “Prospects sure as shit don’t need their own room,” Murphy grumbles.

  “Why you guys bein’ such pussies? Fucking get a sleeping bag and drop it on the ground,” Ravage offers. He’s usually quiet during church, so I’m amused at his suggestion.

  “No offense, but I don’t picture Hope roughing it,” Z says. He’s right, so I don’t bother disputing it.

  Wrath chuckles. “I doubt Trin cares, but I’m getting too old to sleep on the fucking ground. If that makes me a pussy so be it.”

  Ravage waves his hand through the air. “Can’t find a sleeping bag to fit your big ass anyway.”

  Sparky signals me. “Boss, I can’t leave the plants, so you gotta count me out.”

  That’s not exactly a surprise. I turn to Stash, because I assume he’ll also want to stay put. He just shrugs.

  Wrath points at Murphy and Teller. “You two share everything else, can’t you share a room?”

  I roll my eyes to the ceiling.

  Teller shakes his head. “If Heidi comes, she’s staying with me.”

  “Since when do prospects bring chicks?” Murphy asks.

  “Since the chick in question is my sister, and she wants to go. She’ll ride with her boyfriend and stay with me.” The tone of his voice makes the mind your business message in Teller’s words clear.

  Z reaches over and punches Teller. “Gonna make it tough to get laid, bro.”

  Murphy’s mouth curves into a sly smile. “She can always stay with me.”

  Teller glares, but I cut in before their bullshit snowballs. “We’re looking at five or six rooms, if we double up. Can you make that work?”

  “Yeah.”

  Wrath’s brow wrinkles and he slides his gaze to me. “Who’re you staying with, prez?”

  “You.”

  Instead of mouthing off, he nods.

  Mara sent me a text earlier to say dinner would only be the four of us. Ross, Lilly, Mara and me. Adam’s out of town and Sophie’s sick. Shucks.

  I hate confrontation, which is silly. As a lawyer, you’d think I love it. But I don’t. Especially since I still don’t know what the hell to say to her. When I finally confront her slutty butt, if she makes some sort of “he must have misunderstood” excuse, I’ll scratch her damn eyes out.

  Mara wanted to meet at 518 Prime, a fancier restaurant than we usually end up at.

  “Jeez, some of these steaks are more than my first car payment,” she mutters as she looks over the menu.

  It’s true, but, “It’s not every day you turn thirty-five.”

  She lifts her head from her vigorous study of the menu and glares at me. “Shut up. Thirty-five sucks. It’s that much closer to forty.”

  “If it makes you feel better, you still look twenty-five,” Ross says while patting her arm.

  “True,” I add.

  “Look who’s talking. Hope looks like a fresh-faced college girl.”

  “Why are we talking about me? It’s your birthday we’re celebrating.”

  “Sorry we’re late!”

  Sophie’s voice jars me out of our conversation. You’ve got to be kidding.

  Mara stands to greet Lilly and Sophie. The flustered hostess rushes over to slide in an extra chair. This isn’t the sort of establishment that takes change in stride. Sophie ends up seated across from me.

  Wonderful.

  “So sorry we’re late. I’ve been sick all week. Didn’t think I’d make it.”

  “That sucks.” What am I supposed to say? Serves your whoring ass right?

  Sophie glances at me. “Hi, Hope.”

  “Hey.”

  Her wide-eyed, scared expression gives me a measure of satisfaction. She knows something’s up.

  “So, how’s wedding planning land?” Lilly asks after we place our orders.

  “Uneventful so far.” Shoot. This is awkward. I hadn’t discussed my decision to have Trinity as my maid of honor with anyone, and I don’t want hurt feelings. I’d still like Mara to be a bridesmaid. Lilly too. But I’ll be dammed if I even want Sophie at my wedding let alone in it.

  Sophie’s been chugging wine since she got here and signals the waiter for more before turning my way. �
�Are you going to be a deadbeat bride again?” Sophie asks.

  Ross snickers. “Do I even want to know?”

  “She wasn’t—”

  “I’m not into all that girly, wedding crap,” I explain to Ross’s shock and disgust.

  “But…but, you’re like the girliest girl I know,” he says with mock surprise.

  “I am not. That would be Mara.”

  At the sound of her name, she tips her head up. “What now?”

  “Are you on your phone at the dinner table?” Ross asks.

  Mara’s cheeks turn pink. “I was checking on the baby.”

  “Yeah, right. Damon’s probably texting her all the filthy stuff he plans to do to her when she gets home,” Lilly fake-whispers.

  The pink on Mara’s face deepens. “Shut up.”

  “Oh my God! He is!” Lilly snickers and points at Mara’s now crimson face.

  “Why didn’t he come?” Ross asks. Lilly giggles at the word “come” like a fifteen-year-old boy. Dear God, are we really a group of thirty-something professionals, because you’d never know it by listening to us. Which is why I love my friends so much.

  Well some of them.

  My gaze flicks to Sophie and she gives me a weak smile. I can’t help but notice how uncomfortable she seems around me. I realize she and I haven’t been alone together since the night of the fundraiser. Somewhere down deep, her conscience must have some shame.

  “Where’s Rock?” she asks.

  Nope. Any softness I was feeling toward her poofs away when his name rolls off her tongue.

  “Home.”

  “With the muffler bunnies?” she jokes.

  I glare at her. The table falls silent and I hate that I made everyone uncomfortable. “No,” is my clipped response. “They’re gone.”

  “Yeah, but more always find their way there, don’t they?” Lilly asks.

  “Sure. But I trust Rock. He’s not interested in scheming, backstabbing tramps.”

  Sophie opens her mouth to say God-only-knows-what, but we’re interrupted by the waitress bringing our salads and baskets of Brazilian cheese breads. Sophie plucks a slice out before the waitress even places it on the table. Ross wrinkles his brow. “What?” She shrugs. “I haven’t eaten all week.”

  Thankfully everyone turns the discussion on Mara and whether Damon’s going to run for the vacant family court seat that just opened up.

  “Hope, would you end up in front of him, then?” Sophie asks.

  It’s not the brightest question, and I’m a little surprised.

  “Nah, something like that he’d have to recuse himself,” Mara says, shaking her head.

  The rest of dinner is uneventful. Everything’s fantastic and I wonder if I can cajole Rock into throwing on his suit and having dinner here one night. Then I remember the last time I got him in a suit was when Sophie hit on him and I’m right back to my foul mood.

  We end dinner with coffee and coconut cream pie. As I’m thinking about whipping out my Visa, our waitress informs us that the bill’s already been paid. “Happy birthday, from Damon,” she explains.

  “Jeez, Mara, that was awfully sweet of him,” I say.

  Ross chuckles. “Yeah, if I’d known that, I would have ordered the Hennessy X.O.”

  While we’re walking out, the girls bring up my wedding again.

  “Did you set an actual date yet?” Sophie asks.

  “Not really.”

  We did. But I don’t feel like telling Sophie.

  “Will Rock wear his cut to your wedding or do you think you can get him in a suit?” she asks and I don’t care for the snide tone I detect in her voice.

  “Why? Are you planning to try and fuck him again?” I snap. Whoops. Almost made it through the evening without losing my temper.

  I said it low enough that we’re not causing a scene. Yet. But everyone in our party heard my question. No one seems to know what to say or do.

  “Uncomfortable,” Ross mutters, looking around for the valet.

  “What are you talking about, Hope?”

  “Are you really going to go the innocent route, Sophie?”

  Lilly slips an arm between us. “Girls—”

  “I’m fine, Lilly.” I’m not though. I’m seething. I want Sophie to fucking admit what she did and apologize or show remorse. Something besides standing there staring at me like I’m the one who did something wrong. I want reassurance that the last ten years of our friendship weren’t a massive waste of time. “Don’t you have anything to say, Sophie?”

  Mara also gets between us. “Girls, why don’t we discuss this somewhere else?” She lowers her voice. “You know where half of the Empire County bar association isn’t having dinner. We can go back to—”

  “No. There’s nothing to discuss.”

  “I wondered when he’d get around to telling you,” Sophie finally says.

  Lilly gasps. So, at least she didn’t know. Mara rocks back on her heels. I raise an eyebrow, waiting for Sophie to continue.

  “What do you want me to say, Hope? I’m so fucking sorry. I’ve tried a million times to come clean with you, but I didn’t know what to say. You saw me that night. I barely remember what happened.”

  “You’re going with the drunk defense?”

  “She was in rough shape that night.” Ross wanders back from the valet and into our conversation.

  I whirl on him. “Did you know?”

  “Know what? Rock told me to go get her. That she was acting like a fool. She was babbling a lot of nonsense when I found her.”

  “I’d like to blame it on the alcohol,” Sophie says. Then she dares to look me in the eye. “But I’ve always kind of liked Rock.”

  Lilly and Mara both gasp and stare Sophie down.

  Whoa. Okay. For some reason, that’s the last thing I expected her to say. Noting the glares from our friends, she rushes to explain. “I’d normally never, ever do anything about it. You deserve the best, Hope, and it’s been so hard…and Johnny and I had this fight. I don’t know. It was stupid.”

  Well, that was a lot to absorb.

  “If it makes you feel any better, he never hesitated. He couldn’t push me off him fast enough. We were all alone. He could have…and no one would—”

  “Enough!” My stomach rolls as I envision what must have happened. Wrath’s description of Sophie climbing Rock must have been pretty accurate. The ugly thought that’s been bothering me all day tumbles out of my mouth. “Did you ever come onto Clay?”

  The flash of distaste across her face punches me in the gut. “No, Hope. Never. Clay wasn’t my type.”

  “Jesus Christ, shut up, Sophie,” Ross mumbles.

  Both of us ignore him. A deadly sort of calm washes over me. “But Rock is your type?”

  “Yes.” My face must betray the violence welling up inside, because she takes a step back and stutters. “No. I don’t mean it that way.”

  “Why’d you even bother setting us up?”

  “I just thought he’d pull you out of your funk. I never thought you’d consider marrying him.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Hope. Be serious. I figured with the type of girls he’s used to…being around all those strippers… he’d go back to that eventually.”

  I can’t suck in enough oxygen to deal with her mountain of crap. “You don’t know a fucking thing about him. Or us.”

  “Hope.” She reaches out to take my hand, but I snatch it away, shoving her back a few steps in the process.

  “Don’t you dare touch me. I can’t even. I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I notice the valet pulling up with my car.

  “Hope, please. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t face you after what I did. I realized how wrong I was when you were in the hospital. He was so…broken at the thought of losing you and I felt even worse about what I’d done. The guilt’s been making me crazy.”

  “Coming clean with me might have helped,” I snap. “Not b
eing a backstabbing bitch would have also worked.” I take a few steps away from our group. Everyone’s uncomfortable and we’re definitely making a scene now. I’ll have to add “embarrassing me to death” to Sophie’s list of crimes after this.

  “Please, Hope. I’d undo it if I could. What do you want me to do?”

  I glance back at my friend. Former friend? All I feel is one more loss.

  She’s right about one thing. What’s done can’t be undone.

  “Don’t come to our wedding.”

  And then I go home.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I’m so flustered after that scene with Sophie, I have to pull over when I get on the highway. My hands are shaking so bad. I ball them into fists and a little part of me wishes I’d popped Sophie in her slutty face.

  God, that was awkward.

  I don’t know how to fix it.

  And honestly I shouldn’t have to be the one to fix it.

  I’m stopped on the shoulder for so long, that a state trooper pulls up behind me.

  “Fantastic.”

  “Miss, do you need help?” he calls out.

  “No, sir.” I roll my window down all the way and wait for him to approach with my hands on the steering wheel.

  “Everything all right, young lady?”

  “Yes, officer. I, uh, just had a fight with my friend and I needed to pull over to cool off before driving home.” Seriously? Don’t I always warn my clients not to volunteer too much information to the police? What’s wrong with me?

  “Have you been drinking?”

  “No, sir. I never drink when I’m driving.” Shut up, Hope!

  He chuckles and leans in, I assume to try to smell any alcohol on me. “Are you okay to drive now?”

  “Yes. I’m just going to call my fiancé so he can meet me.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. I’ll wait behind you until you take off. This is a dangerous place to be stopped.”

  “Sorry, officer.”

  I don’t end up calling Rock after all. I just want to get home to see him. I’m afraid if I call him, I’ll end up bursting into tears and it will take me even longer to get into his arms.

 

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