Page 64 of One Night with the Biker

It felt as if all eyes were on my club members and I, but they cleared away without any more argument. Cleaner followed them to the bar, then returned with two glasses, poured rum in each, then slid one to me and one to Bash.

I glared at the motherfucker. “Very fucking funny.”

“Flower!” Bash called.

A small blonde chick with big blue eyes and a gorgeous face walked to the side opposite the body.

“Help him to drink,” Bash said. “Don’t spill a drop and he better not have to ask for a sip. Got me?”

She trembled and nodded vigorously.

Whistling, Bash lit two cigarettes, then leaned over and stuffed one between my lips, holding it in place so I could take a drag, then removing it and setting it in the ashtray.

“He has a cigarette, too,” Bash declared.

“I don’t need it,” I said. She was about to piss herself, afraid to make a mistake while serving me. “I don’t know what deal Boom Boom offered, but my little sister isn’t for sale.”

Studying me, Bash smoked his cigarette. The motherfucker was trying to intimidate me, then he smiled.

“They’re a pain in the fucking ass, aren’t they?”

“What might that be?” I asked, allowing Flower to put the glass to my lips and tip it back.

“Little sisters.” He tasted his drink. “We’re always trying to protect their pussies and they give it up to the wrong motherfuckers anyway.”

I didn’t answer.

“We love them anyway, huh?” he pressed.

Right now, I didn’t know how the fuck I felt. I didn’t trust Bash and I already knew my own brothers were waiting for a reason to put me out of my fucking misery. All because Reese fucking Sinclair saved my life thanks to Ainsley.

I drew in a harsh breath.

“I have a huge family tree.” He laughed. “Vines and brambles. This one fucked that one and that one. It makes things very messy, but I only had one sister. Only daughter Daddy ever claimed. Why? Because my aunt Kimber loved her niece. Sisters see the best in us even when we’re fuckheads.”

Flower served me the drink again. I sidled a glance at the dead girl.

“Do you know what I hate, Roman?”

Probably a lot. Insane motherfuckers didn’t like much. “I don’t know you, so how the fuck would I know that?”

He ignored my sarcasm, drained his glass, and poured another one. “I hate motherfuckers who pretend they’re decent. More than I am.”

“And that is?”

“A heartless murderer without a conscience, and a motherfucker who runs women, sells them, and kills them. I don’t have time for their bullshit. Except Celia. My little sister.”

Begrudgingly, I applauded his self-awareness. “I see.”

“When Boom Boom called and said he had a deal for me, I told him to come on over. I knew it was a cunt he wanted to sell me. He told me all about her. Ainsley. She’d run afoul of the club and you would kill her as soon as you got hands. Then he said you could tell me more since you spent a lot of time with her. The one thing hedidn’tsay was she was your sister.”

“And that makes a difference to you?” I asked skeptically. This time, I didn’t sneak a glance at the dead chick. I looked at her pointedly.

He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Even if I wasn’t distracted by a war with my little brother’s club, I wouldn’t be happy with Boom Boom.”

What did a war between two small-time organizations matter to me?

Flower brought the glass to my lips again. I welcomed the burn once I tasted the alcohol.

---