The moment I was alone, I crawled back into the corner and pulled my legs up against my chest, just watching as people moved around me, filtering toward Drew, talking to him quietly while squeezing his shoulder. All the while he was drinking straight from a bottle and staring stonily at the wall ahead of him.
It seemed like no matter how many times I replayed the events that had happened just beyond the doors, I couldn’t wrap my head around the look the other man they’d called Cortez had given me, or Drew’s reaction to it. The longer I let myself think about it, the colder my blood became. Bringing my head against my knees, I tried to hide the sudden shiver that the malevolence had sent through me. I had a feeling that those eyes would haunt me for a while.
“You look like shit,” Kenny said, dropping down beside me and handing me a bottle, his other arm sliding along the back of the seat I was occupying.
“Fuck you, too.”
He snorted, obviously undeterred by my insult. He may have taken it all in his stride, but I sure as hell couldn’t. I claimed the bottle and took a mouthful before handing it back as the heat of the liquid began to make me feel a little better.
“Really weird morning, huh?”
“Weird’s one word for it.”
Kenny laughed and drank from the bottle in one long stream, the bittersweet stench of the whiskey permeating everything. “You okay?”
“Absolutely. I just have to keep moving,” I said, pushing up and wobbling before heading toward the kitchen to clean up from breakfast. I started throwing plates away and gathering cups on my path, my eyes flashing to where Drew was visibly ignoring the men around him who were trying to talk, his jaw set in stone. The hut had come to life, men moving around the place like a swarm of ants. Some paced, some were on their phones, but all of them were agitated. All I knew was that I was best out of the way.
It was a terrible, drunken rendition of one of my all time favorite songs that pulled me from my cleaning duties. The lyrics coaxed me from the laundry room and I was standing at the lip of the corridor, my shoulder against the wall, watching a mass of middle-aged men playing air guitar and air drums. The mood had lightened for most of the group, but the darkness that permeated from the corner Drew inhabited was toxic. There was a girl on his lap, her body draped over him while he fed himself from the bottle of whiskey still clasped firmly in his fist.
The irrational surge of jealousy was a hard pill to swallow, even as he seemed uninterested and stared off into the darkness. His hands moved over her flesh, his fingers curling into the skin of her ass, making her giggle. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or pity, but the moment the girl tipped his head back and devoured him, I knew. I knew because the need to drag her away by her hair was an itch in my fingertips. I’d never felt so violent in my life, and I wasn’t quite sure I liked the way it made me feel.
“Ayda, you’re back,” Kenny said, the words slurred as he staggered toward me. He propped himself up against the wall with one hand. It was placed strategically by the side of my head, allowing him to lean in and intoxicate me with his breath alone.
“It would appear so.” I stared at his strange eyebrows rather than his eyes so he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. The mood may have lifted a little, but that didn’t mean shit in terms of volatility. With Deeks nowhere in sight and Drew otherwise indisposed, I was feeling a little exposed and vulnerable. “How about I go make some food to feed the masses?”
“Don’t leave,” Kenny breathed, his finger trailing down my cheek. “You can’t anyway, we’re on lockdown.”
“Stop it, Kenny.”
His arm gave way, whether on purpose or from his alcohol consumption, and his body swung toward mine. I pressed myself against the wall to avoid him, my head turning to the side. I regretted it the moment I did. My eyes met Drew’s across the room and all I saw was a cold emptiness shining back at me. His lips curled into an even colder smile right before he stood and hoisted the girl over his shoulder, one hand firmly grabbing her ass, while the other gripped the neck of a whiskey bottle. Then he was gone into the sea of bodies.
My hands met Kenny’s chest as he stumbled, and I managed to push him upright. I began searching his face, trying to find something there that would save me from the inexplicable stab of pain and rejection in my chest, but there was nothing. Not with Kenny, anyway, and that terrified me, because the alternative wasn’t something I wanted to deal with.
“Kenny, please. You and I are friends, but that’s all. Why don’t you go and get one of the girls to help warm your bed?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Go and get laid.”
He started to laugh, his finger attempting to touch the tip of my nose but ended up on my cheek instead. “They’re all wrong, you know. You don’t have a stick up your ass at all.”
Then he was gone, whistling to one of the girls being taken from behind over the pool table. At least he hadn’t been insulted. I was grateful for small things at that point, because some of the harsher realities in my life were serving as nothing more than confusion.
Pushing off the wall and heading back into the residential section of the hut, I tried not to think about anything going on behind the closed doors of any room as I headed to the kitchen to make myself useful, while also trying my hardest not to focus on how long I was going to be locked inside this place. If I hadn’t had my phone, I would have lost all sense of date and time. Lockdown apparently meant every window and door was shutdown and guarded by someone closer to sober than everyone else.
Turning on the extractor fan in the kitchen in the hope that it would eat up some of the cigarette smoke, I opened the fridge and walked inside to grab a couple beers and some cold cuts for the sandwiches. I doubted anyone gave a shit about eating, but it gave me something to do, while I took the slow route to insanity.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Drew
She rolled off the bed with a giggle while I just lay flat out on my back and kept my eyes closed. There wasn’t much more to be said or done. It was too late. I’d gone to that place in my head now. There was a quiet calm that was floating through my body, right alongside all the whiskey that I’d drunk. All the anger that had been raging through me before was finally beginning to fade away. Only one image was lingering in the back of my hazy mind, forcing the last bit of fire to stay lit.
“Shall I go get you something to drink?” the girl squeaked out beside me as she fumbled around to put her clothes back on.
“Nope,” I answered as slowly as I could, my lazy smile breaking free as my arms spread further out above my head. “Jus’ go.”
The bed dipped again when she climbed back on board, and the sudden movement made my stomach swirl with unease. “Come on, Tucker. Don’t be like that. I can go get you something to driiink. We can keep this little party of two going.” Her lips slid over my ear, her warm breath making my eyes crease tighter together as I tried not to roll on my side and push her the fuck away. She was messing with my zen – or whatever that trippy, floaty as fuck feeling was called.
“Sweetheart…”
“Yes, baby?”
“Get the fuck outta here before I throw you out.”
“But, Drew…”
I didn’t wait any longer. Her voice was annoying as shit and she was really starting to get on my balls. Literally. Turning to face her, I growled and let my body lift up so I was right in her face. When I opened my eyes and took a good look at her, I had to blink a couple of times and try to remember if she really was the girl I brought in here before. My head snapped to the door, then back at her, then back to the door, then over my shoulder, as I looked for the blonde chick I thought about while I was doing what I was doing just a few minutes ago.
“Who the fuck are you?” I slurred in her face, my brows creasing together in confusion.
“What?” she snapped back sharply as her own nose crinkled up and made her look like a really pointy and spiteful looking pig. “W
hat are you talking about?”
“Name. Who are you? Where’s the girl I–”
“Jesus Christ, Drew. Are you for real right now?”
As soon as her voice took on that higher pitch again, my brows raised and I had to shut my eyes again. “Wow. That’s… That’s a loud little voice you’ve got there.”
“Rachel.”
“Rachel,” I repeated, like I’d known all along, nodding my head and peeking an eye open. “Rachel.” Who the fucking hell was Rachel? “I knew that.”
“Sure you did, you giant ass!” Rachel stood up straight and flicked her hair over her shoulder like it would and should mean something to me that she dared to throw an insult my way.
Stretching my mouth out wide and over exaggerating every word I said, I pointed a finger in her face and tried to focus on where exactly she was. I was sure she kept moving around. “It’s asshole, actually. I’m an asshole. Not just an ass. Go ask whatserface out there. She’ll tell you.”
Rachel stared at me for a while longer and, even in my drunken, high as a fucking gliding kite state, I could tell she was trying to weigh her options up. If she walked out of this door looking anything less than the cat that got the cream, she wouldn’t be able to tell all the other Hound whores about what had just happened and it would all have been for nothing. No chick wants to put their mouth to work like that and not get a reward.
My elbow started to shake against the mattress and I was just about to crash back down onto it, with the hope of staying there for the rest of the night, when Little Miss Scratchy Throat spoke up again. Planting a hand on her hip and doing that thing girls do where they lean to one side, she rolled her head like it wasn’t even attached and gave me her best attitude face.
“Whatserface? You mean the girl who’s fucking Kenny over the pool table right now?”
That’s all it took for that image to push its way to the forefront of my mind again. Kenny and Ayda had been about to kiss before I came in here.
Raquel… No, Rachel, must have seen the way my face dropped, because no sooner had she said it before she was shaking her head and whispering, “you’re pathetic,” under her breath.
“Just get out of here, for fuck’s sake,” I snapped, pushing my body up from the bed, despite my stumbling feet refusing to play ball with the whole supporting and keeping me upright thing. “You heard me. Go on.” Pointing to the door, I let my hands fall to the fly of my jeans and tried to pull myself together. Shit, this room was spinning fast.
“Won’t you at least walk me out?” she asked, brushing past me as my shoulders rolled forward and I watched her make her way to the door. “It could help us both, you know?”
“The fuck you talking about?” I whispered back at her.
“I’ll make the girls jealous and you’ll make your cleaning lady green, too.”
The fact that she thought she knew what the hell I was thinking about pissed me off more than it should, but the fact that what she was saying kind of made sense pissed me off to a whole new level. I didn’t play games. I never had done. If I wanted something, I went out and got it. If I needed something, you could bet your life on the fact that I would have it in my hands within the hour. If I wanted Ayda in any capacity other than to be here and do her job, I’d have had her bent over the desk in my office twenty times already.
So why did the thought of her and Kenny irritate me so fucking much? Why did that image of them feel like it was burning holes into my skull? And why, why was I letting this woman in front of me take me by the hand and guide me back out into the room full of other people?
I wasn’t left with much time to think about anything as she walked backwards, guiding me forward, her eyes on mine the whole time as though she was trying to make me fall under some kind of eye-fucking spell. When the door creaked open behind her and she turned around to the face the crowds, the light of the bar made my eyes scrunch tightly together as they tried to adjust.
A few of the men cheered quietly, others laughed as she guided me back out into the middle of the pack, her body twirling around as though she was on a catwalk. I even felt a few slaps on the shoulder. Everyone in here was congratulating me on screwing a cheap whore. What was wrong with these people?
I tuned them all out as soon as she started putting on a show. There was only one place I wanted to look and that was straight over at the pool table. When I saw two of the MC guys standing around it drinking beer, my shoulders relaxed instantly. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew one thing for damn certain. This piece of skirt had to go.
Not feeling even a little bit bad about what I was about to do, I raised her arm high up in the air as though I was showing off my prize. Right on cue, Rachel spun underneath it and that megawatt smile of hers was flashing like a neon, I-just-bagged-Drew-Tucker sign, up until the point where I grabbed both of her hips to stop her and whispered in her ear. “No, you’re pathetic.” Then I shoved her into the group of waiting bikers that were standing around us, laughing as I shoved my hands into the depths of my pockets. “Go fetch, boys.”
I wasn’t interested in playing games with anyone.
The only person I had the urge to find at this very moment was Ayda Hanagan and, drunk or not, in her good graces or in her bad, I was going to find her and I was probably going to do something really inappropriate. I only hoped I didn’t have to kick Kenny’s ass to get to her.
Rachel was squealing around the other men and pretending not to be affected by what I just did to her in front of all her rivals, but I saw the parting dagger she shot me before I stumbled on a slant to the bar and called out for someone, anyone to start serving me more drinks. When Jedd stepped up behind it, wearing a sarcastic grin on his face as he slapped his hands down on the counter and leaned forward, I knew he saw this as playtime.
“Sshh,” I breathed out, collapsing against the opposite side of the bar and flashing him my own half smile. “I don’t want to hear it. Just serve me something that’s going to make my blood sing.”
“Is this the solution to all our problems, Drew?”
“No.” I looked up at him through innocent eyes and pretended to bat them at him like one of those scantily clad whores would do if they wanted him to submit. “Please, Mr. Thomas. Give me whiskey.”
“You won’t find any answers in the bottom of a bottle.”
“I won’t get to the bottom. I’ll stop just before.”
“And what will that achieve?” He smirked, reaching around behind him for a fresh one before pulling and twisting off the cap in one swift movement.
“Y’all have gotten so old while I’ve been away.”
“We had to grow up fast,” he said with a raised brow, holding the drink up high in his hand. “If you want it, come get it.”
“Screw you.” I slumped forward, my arms outstretched to cling onto his side. I tensed my muscles and slammed my head down on the top of the bar, groaning as I rolled it from side to side. “If you’re not going to give me a drink, can you at least do something else for me?”
The sound of the bottle landing with a thud right next to me had me lifting my head to peer back up at him. “What’s that?”
My eyes flickered between him and the bottle while I tried to weigh up which mattered the most. It was only when I turned away from the alcohol and strained to speak that I knew I was making her my first choice for the night and the whiskey my second. “Tell me where the hell Ayda Hanagan is. And if you tell me she’s with Kenny, I swear…”
I didn’t have to say anything else. The look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.
Fuck.
I was going to have to kill my brother.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Ayda
Hiding had actually turned out to be quite productive. I had four platters of sandwiches that may never get eaten, cut into perfect triangles and ready to go. I’d been checking my phone every thirty seconds for the last hour, picturing exactly what Tate was doing and where he sho
uld be. Unfortunately, the very obvious threat that had been directed at me that morning had been playing on my mind since I’d realized school was over and football practice was coming to an end.
Draining the last of the beer from my bottle and throwing it in the huge trashcan, I put my hands on my hips and stared at the sandwiches again. Might as well do something to distract myself. I wasn’t leaving anytime soon – at least not until we got the all clear, and with everyone as drunk as they were, I couldn’t see that being anytime soon.
Picking up the pastrami, I used my tray balancing skills from Rusty’s and headed to the door, butt pushing it out of the way. The moment I did, the smell of cigarettes and stale beer almost brought tears to my eyes. The radio was in full swing, another one of my favorites drowned out by idle chatter and the laughter of the men.
I’d honestly thought that no one would want to eat, but the sandwiches were almost gone before I found a surface clean enough to put them on. The ham went even faster, and the chicken salad was gone before I was halfway across the room. These men liked their mayo.
“Maybe you should take some of these to Drew,” one of the guys said with a laugh as I brought the turkey sandwiches out. Before I knew what I was doing, I put on the brakes and backed up to the man that had spoken.
“I’m sorry?”
“Drew,” he said, nodding to the bar where the big guy, Jedd, was leaning over a slumped over Drew. Admittedly, he looked wasted, but I shrugged and smiled at the guy. Drew had two legs. He wanted sandwiches, he could use them.
It didn’t matter what I did after that. My attention was divided between Drew and worrying about Tate. When all of the sandwiches were out and their fate was decided, I started to clean up as much as I could, my eyes gravitating across the room with every smash of a bottle at the bottom of the bag, as though it would somehow glean his attention.
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