Page 28 of Vapor

“The guys are on their way right now. Hopefully they find something.” I rub the back of my neck where the bowtie is scratching me.

“You coming back to the clubhouse?”

“As soon as I get out of here.”

“Grab me some of those fancywhores-derveson your way out,” Fang says, intentionally pronouncing it wrong. It’s one of his favorite jokes.

“I’ll get a to-go box.”

“Nice!”

I end the call, shaking my head. Leaving empty-handed sucks, but I wasn’t expecting to find much. I already assumed he’d password protect his computer, but I was hoping maybe it would be unlocked. Eyeing it, I’m tempted to just take it. But then Broussard would know I want more than just a business alliance.

After checking to make sure the hall is clear, I slip out of the office, closing the door tightly behind me. The lock clicks back into place.

I glance over the railing to where the servant’s waiting below. He hasn’t moved, but he’s sure as fuck checking his watch.

Ambling down the stairs, I hold my belly as if it’s hurting.

“Did you find the bathroom, sir?”

“Yes, but I’m going to have to leave. Something just isn’t sitting right.”

“Can I call you a ride?” he asks.

“No need, I’ve got one.”

“Very well, sir. Good evening.”

“You too.”

I hand my ticket to the valet. He pulls the SUV up a minute later. I hated having to leave my hog behind, but I couldn’t exactly come roaring up on it. That would blow my image right to shit. Broussard knows I’m a biker, but I also want him to realize that I can move in the same circles he’s in without drawing a ton of attention. It’s just one more part of my plan to get closer to him.

As I drive away from the house, I glance in the rearview window. The servant who was inside is standing on the porch, watching me go. Damn. I hope he doesn’t report my fake bathroom rouse to Broussard. Maybe he’ll just be happy I didn’t blow up the shitter and let it go.

By the time I get back to the clubhouse, it’s almost midnight. The club bitches are passed out around the living room. A couple of guys are still boning chicks, but I don’t watch that shit anymore. Once you’ve seen enough people fucking, you get bored of it. It’s just more ass, and there’s plenty of that to go around.

Fang’s upstairs in his room. Alone. I swear he’s still a fucking virgin because he’s too busy jerking off to lines of code instead of banging real live pussy.

He looks up from his computer. Instead of using his laptop in bed, like he usually does, he’s sitting at his small desk.

“Well, that was pretty much a bust,” I grumble, plopping down in the chair across from him.

“Pretty much? Sounded like you didn’t get much out of it.”

My mind flashes back to kissing Blue in the gazebo under the moonlight. Yeah, I got something alright, but I’m not ready to share it with anyone. I don’t know what’s going on with her, or with us, but I want her. Not just for a few stolen kisses. I want more.

“Anything from Ice yet?” I ask, keeping my other thoughts to myself.

“No, but there’s no cell signal in the bayou anyway.”

“True.”

“What about Vasquez?” I ask, referring to the New Orleans head of the Los Serpientes de Cristal cartel.

“Nothing new. At least nothing I could find.”

“Keep looking.”

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