Page 2 of Love is Blind

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” I sneer, a sinister grin creeping across my face. Flicking my wrist, I pull her by the hair and drag her down the hallway to the back door. It’s time for this bitch to get lost.

“Get your fuckin hands off me,” she shrieks, her hands slapping at me.

The girl can put up a fight, I’ll give her that.

Still, I ignore her and lean my forearm against the latch on the firesafe door. It opens and I push her outside into the dark alley behind Sally’s BBQ, finally releasing my hold on her hair. She spins around, fixing me with those catlike eyes of hers.

“I was having drinks with someone!”

Yeah, I caught that. Someone should warn that poor bastard.

“The guy with the receding hairline and beer belly,” I say, picking the strands of hair out from between my fingers. Flicking them away, I lift my gaze to her. “I’ll tell him I took the trash out. If he wants scraps, he can go dumpster diving.”

Her cheeks flame and she starts to charge for me but I slam the door in her face.

“Shoulda broke her legs when I wanted to,” I mutter under my breath. Lord knows it would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.

Rolling my neck, I crack my knuckles and make my way back to the main dining room. The boisterous sound of people enjoying themselves fills my ears as my eyes dart to the back of the restaurant. There Maverick sits with his wife, Holly, and their kids, Tara, Shep, and Theo. They all feast on Sally’s famous brisket like they’re the modern-day Walton family. Well, that’s if John Walton was the president of an outlaw motorcycle club and Olivia Walton had a mean right hook.

My eyes lock with Maverick’s and I tip my chin. The man didn’t ask for my assistance. To be honest, I’m not even sure he or Holly knew Vivi was there until I excused myself from their table and followed her to the bathroom.

It wasn’t the sanction of brotherhood that made my blood boil and got my boots moving, but rather my loyalty to Holly. A man gets his colors, he gets himself a family. A band of brothers that will kill for him, but sometimes, if he’s lucky, he gets himself a sister too. One that talks him off the ledge and takes the loaded gun from his mouth. She holds him while he cries and when the dust settles, and he realizes he only lives to see another day because she carried him through his darkest hour, he vows to always have her back.

“Ghost,” Holly calls. My gaze cuts to her and she smiles at me, those brown eyes of hers so warm and welcoming.

I swear I don’t know what Maverick did in life to get so fucking lucky. Most men don’t strike gold once in a lifetime, he struck it twice and with the same woman. If he ever fucks this up again, I will kill him with my bare hands.

“Come sit down, we ordered plenty,” she says, pointing to the empty chair across from her.

It isn’t the first time she’s included me in a family dinner since she and Maverick got back together, and it won’t be the last. That’s just Holly’s way. She takes in all the broken toys—all the misfits no one wants and makes them feel like they have a place in her kingdom.

Holly, Tara, Shep, and Theo may all be Maverick’s, but they’re also property of the Satan’s Knights. I’d fucking throw myself on the sword for any one of them, but sitting down, sharing a meal—staring at those kids, wondering how my Abigail would fit in with them—it’s too much.

“Thanks, Hol, but I’m going to hit the bar. Ya’ll enjoy, though.” I lift my head and bring my eyes back to Maverick. “Phone is on if you need anything.”

He drapes an arm across the back of Holly’s chair and meets my gaze.

“Why don’t you take the night,” he suggests, tipping his chin toward the patch over my right pec. “You’ve been going non-stop since you sewed that thing onto your kutte.”

Becoming Maverick’s vice president wasn’t something I planned on, it sort of just fell into my lap after the man who held the title before me revealed himself to be a disloyal fuck. King sold us out and put us in the middle of a goddamn war. Maverick took his life and I took his rank.

You fuck with one, you fuck with all but in the end, we win.

We always fucking win.

So, yeah, I’ve been putting in long hours trying to keep us all alive, but I’m not the only one and the work is just getting started. It’s nice that Maverick wants me to take the night off, but I got nothing going on in my life. No woman to warm my bed. No family to go home to. Everything I had is gone and all that’s left now is my club.

“Phone will be on,” I repeat, leaving no room for argument.

The man chose me to be his second in command for a reason, and that’s partly because I keep my eyes open andmy fucking phone on. I wink at Holly, tousle Theo’s hair and steal a fry off Tara’s plate. To keep things fair, I steal one from Shep’s too, then I turn my back on the happy family and make my way to the bar.

Sex, drugs, and alcohol are more my speed.

That’s the only downside to being Maverick’s right hand—I’m sober more than I’m high—a real fucking hardship for someone like me. But drowning your sorrows and numbing your pain isn’t all that appealing with an audience. That’s why I ventured out here in the first place, it wasn’t to rip Vivi a new hole or be a supporting cast member in the Burnside family dinner. There were no guns going out the back door in a bunch of frozen cow carcasses either.

I needed a reprieve from the clubhouse, a place to drink myself stupid without any of my brothers standing over my shoulder wondering if tonight is the night I’ll wrap my bike around a pole.

I slide my ass onto one of the vacant stools at the bar and order a drink. The bartender, a pretty little thing named Emmy, slides a tumbler full of whiskey my way and hurries off to the other end of the bar.

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