Steel stiffened and instinctively looked around for Breanna, but he couldn’t spot her. “Keep away from her.” He took out his razor blade, cut open a box, and started putting bottles of whiskey on the bar shelves.
Sangre motioned for a refill as he leaned back against the barstool. “You aiming to fuck her? I thought you didn’t mix business with pleasure, but from the way she’s built, I’d make an exception too if I were in your place.”
Steel poured the amber liquid into the shot glass. “I’m just telling you to stay away from her. I don’t need to give you any fucking reason why.”
Sangre raised his hands in surrender. “No worries, Prez. I should’ve figured you’d have already staked a claim on her fine ass.” He chuckled and then brought the whiskey to his lips.
Steel scowled, then tore down the box and threw it in the recycle bin. He glanced around again for Breanna but didn’t see her. “You going back to the club?” he asked Sangre as he washed the glasses.
Sangre nodded. “I thought I’d find someone to curl around me. I need something soft and curvy tonight.” With his finger, he slid his glass toward Steel. “You lost interest in Alma? I noticed she and Paco have been getting it on for the past few days.”
Steel shrugged. “This thing with Chenoa is eating me up inside. I can’t really focus on pussy right now.” He bent down low to pick up another box. I’m only half bullshitting. The only pussy my dick seems to want is Breanna’s, and that pisses the hell outta me.
“I’m gonna take off. You gonna be here tomorrow night?” Jill asked as she pulled on her sweater.
“Most likely.” He ignored Sangre’s gaze. “Have you seen the new waitress?” He pretended to be engrossed in checking out each liquor bottle he took out of the box.
“Breanna? She left about a half hour ago. Jorge told her to take off a little early. I think he felt sorry for her feet. She was walking as though she was on glass.” Jill laughed softly. “In a week or so, her feet will be used to the torture.” She opened her purse, took out a cigarette pack, and tapped it against her finger to slide out a cigarette, putting it between her lips. “See ya.”
As she stepped out, Steel saw a flame flicker from her lighter. A billow of smoke rose up around her before the door closed.
“I’m gonna get going. See you at the club.” Sangre pushed his six-foot frame off the stool and sauntered to the door.
In a few minutes, Steel heard the roar of Sangre’s cams as his Harley pulled out of the parking lot. He glanced out the window and saw Sangre turn left at the corner before disappearing. Steel drew in slow, steady breaths and massaged his temples. I can’t believe I fucking kissed her. What the hell was I thinking?
Heat flushed through his body as he cracked his knuckles. He picked up the bar rag and wiped the counter vigorously. Ms. Quine was a distraction he couldn’t afford. He had an MC to run, the threat of a rival club war, and his daughter’s addiction to deal with. The last thing he needed was a woman—this woman—messing with his head. He didn’t need or want that sort of complication in his life. He was just fine with the club girls. He didn’t want a citizen—a damn government worker—stealing into his life.
“You’re gonna rub the varnish off if you keep wiping the same spot.” The cash register rang as Jorge opened it, taking out the bills.
Steel’s nostrils flared. “I know what the fuck I’m doing.”
“Chill, dude. I was only joking. What’s up with you? You’ve been tense most of the night.”
“I got shit on my mind, that’s all.”
Jorge paused, then gripped Steel’s arm. “I know. It’s gotta be tough.” Steel grumbled something inaudible. “What do you think of our new waitress? She’s hot, isn’t she? She killed it in tips and this was her first night.”
Steel threw the rag into a laundry bag. “She’s okay.”
“Okay? She’s stacked just like you like them. You must’ve noticed that. I thought you’d be making passes at her all night, but you actually acted like a gentleman.”
“She’s not my type. I like dark-haired women.”
“But she’s got a good rack, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll give her that.” He picked up the laundry bag. “I’m gonna take this to the back.” He walked away, knowing Jorge was probably confused by his reaction to Breanna. He didn’t want to hear about her anymore. Didn’t want to remember how soft her lips were against his, how silky her hair was, or how her body came alive beneath his touch. I gotta rein it in. I can’t let a pretty woman with a body that’s made to be fucked rule my cock. He had to get laid, then her amazing blue eyes and soft lips would flee from his head. Going without pussy made a man think and act like a goddamn fool.
He grabbed his leather jacket and ambled out of the back room. Jorge was counting the money when Steel entered the bar area. “Need some help with that?” he asked as he shrugged on his jacket. Jorge shook his head as he continued counting. “Okay. I’m gonna take off.” Jorge nodded and Steel took out his keys, heading out the door and locking it behind him.
The ride to the clubhouse was fast and just the thing he needed to clear his mind of the blonde vixen. He pulled into his spot and made his way inside, the sweet scent of weed hitting him like a tidal wave when he entered the main room. The room looked like it was invaded by fog, and the red lights that had replaced the normal lighting accentuated the fast beats of “Ace of Spades” by Mötorhead. Steel smiled when he saw some of his brothers, the club girls, and a few hang-arounds dancing to the music. Under the lights, their skin glistened, and he had the urge to join them. He’d love to have had Breanna grinding her ass against him, helping him forget all his cares as the music carried them away.
He made his way through the labyrinth of people, a double shot of tequila greeting him when he got to the bar. He jerked his head at the prospect who was busy filling glasses, opening beer bottles, and wiping down the counter. The fiery sting of the booze warmed him, and he motioned for another. There wasn’t anything like a shot of grade-A tequila to make him relax. He’d always preferred tequila to whiskey, although he never turned away a shot of Jack. Some bikers saw this as an affront to the brotherhood, but he thought they were assholes, so it didn’t bother him any.
As the liquor warmed his blood, he began to relax. From a distance he saw Diablo marching toward him. He still marveled at the sheer size of the club’s sergeant-at-arms. At six feet four inches, Diablo was built like a tank. He was covered in tattoos from his neck downward. A scowl was his usual expression, and Steel found him to be a dark and brooding man of little words. He’d done a stint for manslaughter in the state pen a few years back. Since he never talked about it, Steel didn’t know too many of the details, but he knew the nasty scar he had on his arm was a reminder of the night he’d killed a man.
“I’m surprised you aren’t shaking it. I know Mötorhead’s one of your favorite bands.” Diablo shrugged. “What’re you drinking?”
“Jack. Double.”
Steel pointed to the prospect, who immediately grabbed a bottle of Jack and poured it in a glass. When he placed it on the counter, Steel picked it up and handed it to Diablo. The brawny man downed it in one gulp. “You want me to start securing more arms in case we go to war?” he asked as he shook his head to the prospect’s offer of another drink.
Steele nodded, and before Diablo moved away, Skull and Brutus came over. With Skull’s blond hair and Brutus’s dark, they were a strong contrast to each other. Both were muscular and had their fair share of tats, although Skull’s were basic mayhem while Brutus’s were mystical. “How’s it going?” Skull asked Steel and Diablo.
“Good,” said Steele. Diablo just scowled.
“You got your sights on one of the hang-arounds, Diablo?” Brutus pointed to an attractive woman whose arms and legs were covered in tattoos. “She’s hot. Why don’t you try her out? She’s new. She’s giving you the eye, dude.” He brought his beer bottle to his lips. Diablo stared straight ahead.
&nbs
p; “Fuck, bro. You’re not even gonna check her out. The chick has it bad for you.” Skull elbowed his arm. Diablo visibly stiffened.
“She’s a sure thing. That’s fuckin’ gold.” Brutus laughed, and then Skull joined in. Steel smiled as he watched the two members rib Diablo, who didn’t look like he was going to take much more of it.
“What the fuck are you saving it for, dude?” Skull asked as he grabbed another drink. The prospects were required to know what each member drank and to have the drinks given to them before they had to ask.
When Steel saw the vein at Diablo’s temple pulse, he intervened. “Leave the brother alone. He doesn’t have a hard-on each time he looks at a chick like you two losers do.” He chuckled. Skull and Brutus busted up laughing, but Diablo never once cracked a smile.
He leaned into Steel. “You want me for anything?” Steel shook his head. “Then I’ll go.” He stalked off as Skull and Brutus stared after him.
“What the fuck’s up with him?” Skull asked. “It’s like he’s allergic to pussy. I’ve never seen him with a chick. Damn, his dick must be withered up or something. Have you ever seen him with a chick?”
Steel shook his head. “Nope. He’s a great sergeant-at-arms, but he’s fucking strange. Maybe he gets it in town.”
“With a citizen? No fuckin’ way,” Brutus said as he grabbed a handful of popcorn the prospect put in front of him. “And there’s no way he’s paying for it. That’d be just fucked in the head.”
“Well it’s his business. If he doesn’t want pussy, then he doesn’t. Sometimes I think life would be much easier if pussy weren’t around.” Breanna’s face flitted through his mind. “A whole lot easier.”
“Hey.” Paco came up to the trio and knocked fists together with them. “I got some news from the network. Word on the streets is that a shitload of smack is here and they’re looking for buyers.”
The jovial mood of the couple of minutes before left the group in a matter of seconds. Steel narrowed his eyes and jutted out his jaw. “We need to set up a buy. I gotta find out who the supplier is. Motherfuckers.”
“I was thinking the same. The only one who can pass for a legitimate buyer is Jigger.” Paco picked up his beer bottle.
Steel searched the room for the brother. At five foot seven with a baby face, Jigger looked more like he was sixteen rather than twenty-six. He had a sprinkling of angry tats on the side of his neck and down his arms. “Is he here?”
“I see him on one of the couches. His dick is shoved in some chick’s mouth. She’s got a cute ass from what I can see.” Skull craned his neck further.
“Go get him. He can finish up later.” Steel leaned back against the bar.
A couple of minutes later, Skull returned with a confused Jigger, his erection poking against his jeans. Steel chuckled under his breath. “We need you to do a smack buy. I know you’re planning to go for a week to visit your kid in Durango, but postpone it by a week. I want to do this buy real soon. You gotta hang out where the teens are to find out how to arrange the buy. Inspiration Point is probably a good place to start.”
“That’s still a favorite make-out place? I remember taking a lot of girls up there when I was in high school, hoping to score. Seven times outta ten I did. Good times.” Skull placed both elbows on the bar.
“Yeah, it’s still popular. You’ll also need to hang out at Jake’s Bowl and Arcade. It’s packed. Chenoa and her friends go there a lot. We can set up the particulars tomorrow,” Steel said.
Without flinching, Jigger nodded. “Sure. No problem.”
Pride welled up inside Steel. The brotherhood never questioned his decisions or complained when their plans went awry. It was the brothers’ ironclad loyalty and sense of family that got to Steel each and every time it was challenged. He clasped Jigger’s shoulder without saying a word. He didn’t have to; the look in the member’s eyes told Steel that he was feeling the bond just as strongly as Steel. “You can go and finish up with your pick of the night.”
“Looks like you gotta find yourself a substitute, dude.” Paco pointed at the woman Jigger had been with. She was now riding Sangre’s cock as he sucked her tits.
“Fuck,” Jigger said, and then Steel saw his eyes go bright. He turned in the direction of the brother’s gaze and saw Alma approaching them. Jigger glanced at Steel.
“Go for it. I’m not gonna have her tonight.” Steel laughed inwardly when he saw Jigger’s excited face; it was like he’d handed the man a million dollars. He figured he owed it to him for dragging his ass over right before he came with the sweet chick who was blowing him.
“You’re cool with it, right?” Jigger looked anxiously at Steel. Brutus, Skull, and Paco laughed.
“I said I was, didn’t I? Go for it before I change my mind.”
Jigger scrambled away and stopped Alma before she came over to Steel. He whispered something in her ear and she looked at Steel, disappointment lacing her eyes, before she looped her arm around Jigger’s. The two of them disappeared into the crowd.
“You passing Alma off again?” Paco asked.
“Yeah. I’ve got too much on my mind,” Steel answered.
“Is there something you wanna talk about?”
“Nope.” Steel crossed his arms.
Before the vice president could answer, Angel padded over and wrapped her arm around him. He pulled her close and took a handful of her soft ass cheek in his hand, squeezing it.
She laughed. “You’re being a naughty boy.” She ran her purple-painted fingernail over his face.
“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” he said huskily. She giggled and leaned into him, her hand dropping to rub his crotch. Steel snorted while Paco kissed her. He pulled away and looked at Steel. “We done here?”
Steel nodded and watched Paco and Angel grope each other as they walked away. Glancing around, he saw many of his brothers and the women engaging in various acts of sex, and he felt a pull on his dick. I should grab one of these chicks and drain myself in her. Plenty of women had been giving him the eye ever since he’d entered the clubhouse, but he knew he wouldn’t do it. He’d finish his drink and then head up to his room, wanting to go early the next day to see Chenoa. He also didn’t want any woman except the blonde pain in the ass who’d been on his mind far too much, and who’d become a major burr in his side.
He threw back his last drink, pushed away from the bar, and climbed the stairs, all the while cursing the hot social worker for stirring shit up inside him.
Chapter Nine
The following morning, after visiting with Chenoa, Steel sat on his Harley in the hospital’s parking lot, plugging in his sister’s phone number.
“Hi, Steel. To what do I owe the honor of a phone call from you?”
“I wanna know why you’re dumping your kids with Shimá. You know she’s not well, or doesn’t that matter to you, Chitsa?”
He heard her sigh loudly.
“How is this your fuckin’ business? Shimá likes having my kids with her. The older ones help her around the house, and the younger ones make her feel useful. Why do you think you know everything?”
“’Cause I do. Your older kids aren’t doing shit around the house. Last time I was there, the fridge was bare, the bedrooms were a mess, and Shimá looked pale, tired, and weak. She hadn’t even eaten. Don’t try to bullshit me that you give a damn about our mother.”
“I do. It’s just that I’ve been very busy and feeling stressed. I thought it would help if I was away from the kids for a while.”
“Translation: you’re shacking up with some asshole who doesn’t want your kids around. Fuck, Chitsa. How can you dump your children at Shimá’s whenever a jerk you’re into tells you to? How do you think that makes your kids feel?”
“I don’t need you lecturing me. My children are just fine. Anyway, they like hanging out at Shimá’s.”
“Why wasn’t there any food in her fridge? She told me she’s getting food stamps for the four children and herself. Are
you buying the food and keeping it for you and whichever asshole you’re fucking now?”
“Times are tough. I sometimes don’t have any food. Shimá told me that I could use some of the money for me, but she’s been losing the cards too much. I’m going to have to take charge of them.”
“No, you’re gonna get a fucking job, take your kids back, and act like a mother. Shimá could use some help with the grocery shopping. We can take turns. I’ve gotten you two jobs you blew off. You can work at one of our businesses. We need a receptionist at the tattoo shop.”
“I can’t work right now. I’m having too many allergies this summer. Maybe in the fall when the weather turns cooler.”
“Does your loser work?”
“He’s not a loser. He’s between jobs.”
“So no one’s working, and you have Shimá taking care of your kids. That stops right now. Visiting their grandmother is one thing, but living with her and you taking advantage of her is another.”
“If Shimá had a problem with it, she’d tell me. She hasn’t, so butt the fuck out of my life.”
“You know damn good and well Shimá would never tell you the grandkids are too much. She’s always trying to do everything for all of us. You’re taking terrible advantage of her. It stops now, Chitsa. You don’t want to make me madder than I am.”
There was a long pause.
“I gotta go.”
“You take care of this or I will.”
“Okay. It’s better when I don’t hear from you.”
“It’s better when you’re not a selfish bitch.”
“Nice talking to you. Not.” The phone went dead.
Steel took in deep breaths, slowing exhaling them to calm his ire. His sister had always been so selfish. Even when she was young, she never wanted to share with him, their brother, or their cousins, and she never helped their mother even when she was sick. Steel remembered that he and his brother, Wayne, helped their mother by cleaning the dishes, dusting the house, and peeling the potatoes, even though their father made fun of them and called them pussies. But Chitsa just sat around like a princess, not lifting a finger. Their mother never once called her on it.
STEEL: Night Rebels Motorcycle Club (Night Rebels MC Romance Book 1) Page 7