Page 3 of Not Even A Mouse
Business as usual
Thirteen years later
“What the hell are you doing in here, brother?” A sharp kick to the leg of his chair finished jarring Myron awake, and he lifted his head to glare up at the man looming over him. Slate, president of the Rebel Wayfarers MC Fort Wayne chapter, was standing beside the desk, a grin Myron decided to interpret as fond stretched acrosshis face.
He blinked away the remnants of his dream.That’s right, I’m in the Fort. Ronnie Lyons, known in the club as Myron for reasons he’d kept close to the chest for years, yawned and stretched, rolling his neck.
Slate hadn’t been around all day. Myron had ridden in from Chicago mid-morning and immediately started work helping Jase, the club’s business manager in the Fort, sort out the endof quarter statements. He had planned to wait forSlate,but gotten engrossed in the minutia of the many businesses. He glanced around. No Jase.Shit. Myron cleared his throat and looked down, fingers reaching to straighten the printouts he’d apparently been using as a pillow. His voice was hoarse when he asked, “What do you want? I’m busy.”
Slate cackled. “Gettin’ busy?Thisyour version ofgettin’ busy? Fuck, man. This office has seen a lotta action over the years, but that might be the first time anyone’s actually slept on that desk. Why didn’t you head upstairs? You got the message about the rooms Ruby gave you, right? She hooked you up.”
Nodding, Myron folded the pages in half, thumb stroking along the bend tofirmthe crease. Tidy, just the way he preferred things. “The suiteis nice.” It was, too. A set of rooms that had been used by a variety of club and family members over the years, the suite included a living space where he could have done this work just as easily.And without interruptions. “I was waiting. Heard Gunny’s here. I haven’t talked to him for eons,thoughtit might be nice to chat.”
“That man is long gone. Headed home to his old lady.”
Myron grimaced,scrubbinghis jaw with one hand. Two days’ worth of stubble made him feel scruffy. “I must have dozed off.”
“Fuckin’ passed out, you mean.” Slate gripped the arms of Myron’s chair and scooted it away from the table. “Go to bed, brother. I’m headed home. We can sort everything tomorrow. Ain’t nothing so urgent it needs to keep you from your bed, or me from my woman.” He walked behind and shovedon the back of the chair, tipping itforwards,and Myron stood in self-defense, stumbling as he found his feet.
“Yeah.” As much as Myron hated to leave anything undone, Slate was right. “It can wait.” Walking ahead of Slate, he made his way out of the office and through the main room, glancing around to see it full of men, most of which he knew. He slowed with a sigh. He wouldn’t mind gettinga beer if it were just members, but there was also a plethora of the kind of scantily dressed women who were always hanging around the clubhouse, waiting to be noticed. Not old ladies, but party dolls.Shit. “I should—”
A hand landed in the center of his back and steered him firmly towards the stairs. “What you should do is hit the hay, brother. You’re dead on yourfeet,and every man knows it’sbecause you’ve been working your ass off for the club. No one’s gonna fault you for ducking out of Friday night clubhouse drinking. Ain’t a party or anything. Sure ain’t fuckin’ mandatory.” Slate’s voice was as determined as his grip. “Get some shuteye. We’ll finish working the books tomorrow.” The hand at his back faltered, and he glanced around to see Slate looking uncertain. His voice was quietwhen he continued, “Look, Myron. I know you’re fussy about things, but if you want me to send one of the girls up, I can find one to suit you.”
Myron scoffed, too tired to stifle the response.Fussy. He’d worked damned hard to let it be known he was picky.Oh, yeah. I’m particular all right. Aloud, he said, “Nah. I’ll just sleep.”And dream. Each footstep feeling like it was weighted down withcement, he made his way up the stairs.
What he wanted wasn’t a party doll.No, what I’d like to warm my bed is far different.
He reached the top of the stairs and turned to look around the room again, seeing Slate standing and staring up at him. Myron lifted a hand, a gesture Slate returned before turning towards the bar. But not before Myron saw a look of uncertainty had returned to his friend’sface, which for him, was a concerning expression.
Sleep now. Worry later.
***
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Myron sat up and stared across the room. He was in the larger of the two bedrooms, situated directly across the living area from the hallway door. “What the hell?”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A giggle.
His gut dropped.Fuck.
He stood and yanked on his jeans, fastened two buttons and stalked to the doorto yank it open. One of the Fort Wayne members stood there, arm wrapped around a woman. She’d lost her top somewhere along the way, bare breasts pressed to the man’s chest. Myron spared her a glance then glared at the man’s face. Channeling every ounce of intimidation he’d learned from Mason and Slate, he clipped out, “What. The. Fuck?”
“Brute called.”Thank God, it’s something to do with theclub. Not a pity fuck to be deflected. He’d sidestepped a lot of well-intentioned efforts through the years. Still listening, Myron walked back and snagged his shirt from the foot of the bed he’d occupied for only a couple of hours. “His woman’s at that bar.” He grabbed his vest, settling the black leather into place on his shoulders, already knowing where this would end. “You’re sober.”
“ThatI am.” Myron grabbed his boots andsat onthe foot of the bed, watching as the man moved out of view, thankfully taking the woman with him. “Always am.” He slid his boots on over his socks and stood, checking his pockets to ensure he had everything he’d need.
It wasn’t the first time he’d answered this particular call. There wasn’t much hardship in going to a bar and sitting for a couple of hours,especially not if it ensured a brother’s woman got home safely.
Downstairs, he lifted a hand and waved at the few remaining members gathered around the bar. “Ride safe,” he heard and lifted his chin in mute response.
Always do that, too.
