Page 213 of His Virgin Romance Series

“That’s it?” Devon asked.

“Why?” I asked. “Is there another lead that needs to be looked into?”

“No,” Devon replied. “But…”

“But what?” I demanded. “If you have any ideas that won’t start another war with the Knights, then I’m all ears.”

Devon looked at me curiously.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “I just assumed a fight was what you were looking for.”

“Maybe I was,” I said. “But maybe that’s changed.”

Devon raised his eyebrows. “What’s changed exactly?”

“None of your business,” I said shortly. “Go home.”

“Where are you heading to?” Devon asked.

“I need a drink,” I replied. “A strong one, and I won’t find that back at the house.”

I got on my motorbike and turned into the street while Devon finished off his cigarette. He was watching me intently, and I was on the verge of demanding what his problem was, but then I thought better of it. What did I care what his problem was? I had my own shit to deal with, and I didn’t need Devon’s opinions in my head.

He had kept his distance from me since the fight. It wasn’t like we were mad at each other or anything. That wasn’t what our lifestyle was about. We had disagreements, we had fights, but we always rolled back on our feet, dusted ourselves off, and got on with it. Only children held grudges, and Devon knew he had it coming to him. I was a grown man, and his sister was an adult who knew her own mind. A part of me didn’t really blame him for being protective of her though. I had noticed how close the two of them had gotten over the last several weeks.

I drove off and found another bar a few streets over. It was one I had frequented often. None of the Knights ever came in here because the owner had been a good friend of my father’s. He had passed away some time ago, too, and left the bar to a nephew he liked, but the tradition had stuck and while the Angels were welcome, the Knights kept away.

I used to be a regular at the bar on Friday nights. It was one of the best places in town to pick up women. I don’t know why I felt drawn to it tonight. Maybe I was trying to capture a part of my past self, the man I had been before this whole thing with Walter Black had started up. Somehow, I could sense a difference in myself. It was subtle, but it was prevalent and I wasn’t sure what I should make of it.

The bar was mildly crowded. There was low music, and the lights were dim. There were a couple of people at both pool tables; another group of people playing darts, and a handful at the tables. There was no one at the bar, however, so I sidled up and took a seat.

“Look who it is,” Aaron said, turning to me.

He was wearing his usual ponytail and a bunch of wooden bracelets on both wrists. “Hi man,” I nodded to him. “You died your hair again.”

Instead of the red color that I had grown accustomed to seeing him with, he was now a platinum blond. He had one of those chameleon faces that seemed to be able to pull off anything.

“A couple of weeks ago,” he nodded. “You haven’t been in here for a while.”

“Been busy.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Aaron nodded. “You and your boys have been making noise.”

“And anyone sticking their heads out because of it?”

“A few,” Aaron nodded. “But none that I’ve ever recognized… otherwise, I would have let you know.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know a Walter Black, would you?”

“Never heard the name,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “Friend of yours?”

I smirked. “Sure… let’s say he’s a friend of mine. If he comes in here at any point, let him know that I’m looking for him and I just want to say hello.”

“I’ve never heard of a hello sounding so sinister.”

I smiled. “Give me something hard to drink.”

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