“For how long?”
He shrugged.“Could be six months.Could be years.Depends on how I do.”
I gaped at him.“That’s insane.”
Lost just smiled.“I knew what I was getting into.”
I narrowed my eyes.“Do you know what they’re talking about in there?”
He blinked like I’d lost my mind.“No clue.”
Liar.
“What can you tell me?”
Another shrug.He busied himself with stacking glasses, clearly done with this line of questioning.
Fine.
I took another sip and slumped onto the bar, chin in my hand.The room was too big, too quiet.Everything about it screamedboys onlyand I was over it.
Then the Church doors creaked open.
One by one, the guys filed out, Skull, Push, Vin, Piney, Cross.Some headed to the bar, a couple to the kitchen.I watched as they moved with that casual, controlled chaos that always seemed to follow the Kings.
Then I saw him.
Anchor.Broad shoulders, dark eyes scanning the room until they landed on me.
“Doll,” he called, voice low but commanding.
I turned on my stool too fast and had to catch myself from spinning all the way around.I blinked up at him, unbothered.
“Yes,Grant?”I said, dragging out his real name just for spite.
I heard Lost let out a low gasp behind the bar.The guys around us paused, and conversation tapered off to nothing.
Anchor stopped right in front of me, his jaw ticking.
“You good?”he asked.His tone was clipped.Sharp.
“No,” I said flatly.“Not really.”
His eyes narrowed.“You got an attitude right now?”
Yeah.Yeah, I sure did.
I slid off the stool, a little unsteady, but managed not to fall on my ass.Anchor reached out instinctively and grabbed my waist to steady me.
I looked up at him, frustrated, tipsy, and biting my tongue not to lose my shit in front of a room full of his guys.
“I have an attitude,” I admitted, voice low, “and I would like to go somewhere...somewhere I can let it out.”
The room had gone silent.
“I’m not going to scream at you in front of everyone, Anchor,” I added with a forced smile.“Please.”
Anchor muttered something under his breath, then grabbed my hand.