Page 14 of Knocked Up by Her Daddy's Friends

“I’m sure we can find a way for you to show your appreciation,” he says flirtatiously, back to his usual self, earning him a warning glare from Angel and making me blush.

“Okay, well, bye!” I squeak before heading out.

I never know what to make of these guys, one minute they’re avoiding me like the plague, the next they’re rescuing me from pricks and flirting with me acting as though I’m special.

But I can’t let myself think about the guys right now, first I need to get home and try to do some damage control. Perhaps if I can get a hold of Ethan before he speaks to his dad I can come up with some sort of deal. The prick would love to have something he can lord over me. Or maybe if I speak to Mom, I can make her understand and get her onboard. She used to love it at the Angels of Havoc’s clubhouse once.

I climb into my old Toyota, a hand down of Ethan’s since he’s the only one who gets the brand-new expensive cars, and quickly throw on some jeans and a t-shirt over my revealing strapless top, shimmying out of the miniskirt I was wearing once my jeans are covering me before driving off. This is my nightly ritual when I finish work and the opposite when I arrive. The family is usually asleep when I get in, but I don’t want to run the risk of them seeing me in my club work attire, it would definitely give away that I’m not working in a normal bar. Similarly, I could hardly dress how I do around Bill and Mom at the club. So for the past three weeks, I’ve essentially been living a double life.

During the short drive, I pray that they’re all asleep and I’ll have enough time to come up with a plan, but when I pull up the driveway and see that all of the lights are on, I know I’m shit out of luck.

Mom, Bill, and Ethan are all sitting around the kitchen table when I enter, waiting for me. Mom looks as though she’s been crying, her eyes red and puffy. Bill is stony-faced and resolved. Ethan looks positively gleeful with a small, satisfied smirk on his lips and a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

I’m screwed.

Chapter 8

Drifter

“So, are you gonna tell us what happened there?” Angel asks me once we’ve returned to our booth having made sure Skye safely left the premises with no one following.

We kicked out several of the drunk prospects and civilian gawkers, meaning it’s quiet enough that Tammy can manage alone now, and we can talk.

“Exactly what we both said, some asshole laid his hands on Skye, and I kicked him out,” I reply with a shrug, taking a sip of whiskey.

“Not that, between you and Skye. You looked pretty cozy together when we rocked up,” he says.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you sound jealous, brother,” I tease.

Buzz and Gunner grin, clearly in agreement with my summation.

“No,” he says a little too forcefully, “But we agreed that Skye is off limits.”

I let out a sigh, “Don’t I know it… it’s just there’s something about her that’s driving me mad, like an itch I can’t scratch.”

The others all look as though they know exactly what I mean.

“Man, you’re telling me. I am tired of these fucking blue balls,” Buzz groans.

None of us have had sex or so much as been interested in another woman since Skye walked into our lives, not even Angel the biggest playboy of us all. Gunner tried taking to bed his usual Club Bunny who’s into S&M and kicked her out partway through, much to her chagrin and our amusement. He’s been tightlipped on whether or not he feels the way we do about Skye, but we all know that he’s as drawn to her as we are.

Angel grunts, “She’s just a girl, we’ll get over it. We just want her because we can’t have her.”

“So let’s have her and move on,” Buzz suggests.

“She’s not a thing to be played with and discarded. She’s one of us and she deserves our respect. Besides, I doubt she’d want all four of us. She got caught up in the moment with me, but she’s no Veronica,” Angel growls.

That shuts us up, he’s right.

“Speak of the devil,” Gunner mutters as Veronica teeters back through the door after her cigarette break.

She’s been all over us tonight like a dog with a bone. Not that we want to bone her again. We’ve shared women before but it’s clear Veronica only has eyes for Angel, the rest of us are collateral. I think she thought it might even make Angel jealous. None of us would ever feel that way, we share everything, including women.

“Hey boys,” Veronica says in her irritating put-on baby voice.

She juts out her rock-hard fake tits, preening and begging for attention. She’s in her usual attire of sky-high heels, a tiny crop top, and low-slung daisy dukes showing off her flat stomach and belly button ring, on her lower back she had the gall to get the Angels of Havoc logo tattooed, something she was reprimanded for at the time. Only patched members and their old ladies have the right to get our ink. She’s so desperate to be with Angel I think she thought it would actually help her become one of us.

We all share a look, knowing exactly what we’re all thinking. Do we fuck the all-too-eager Veronica to try to shake this sexual slump we’ve been having and get over our desire for Skye? The bar’s empty now, apart from us and Tammy, there are no other options.

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