Page 9 of Rider Daddies
“A motorcycle club,” I say, earning a grimace from Ash.
“You guys ride around thieving?”
Ash throws me daggers.
“Uh…” I chuckle. “Not that kind of club, no.”
“Everything we do here is lawful,” Ash says. “No funny business.”
“Is that right?” Lacey arches one of her dark brows and turns out to the crowd, eyes shooting to the woman still bent over the table. Then, the knife. “I don’t know. This place seems more like a cult.”
Saint and I burst out laughing.
Ash looks at us funny and then proceeds to answer the question. “I assure you—this isn’t a cult.”
Her eyes linger on his face again, the look inside of them softening.
I’ve seen that look before. Ash is the quiet one in the group, but that always seems to draw women in. I think it has something to do with his piercing blue eyes. If girls want a diamond in the rough to admire, they’ll go to him.
“So, Lacey,” Saint says, “tell me. What are your plans now?”
She grits her teeth, white pearls glinting in the flashing lights. “Honestly? I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. I just needed to get out of California.” She takes another big gulp of tequila, swallowing it with ease.Atta girl.“I’m kinda glad I found this place, though.”
California? Damn.
Saint’s brown eyes deepen. “You’re glad you found this place? Why?”
She shrugs. “I needed a distraction.” She finishes the glass of tequila and sets it down on the bar, facing us again. “I don’t suppose any of you guys have a charger? USB-C? My phone ran out of battery on the drive over here and I need to text my mamma. Let her know I’m okay…” She scrunches up her face, gaze returning to the knife. “I think.”
“You’re in safe hands,” Ash says. “But unfortunately, when it comes to technology, we’re behind the times. Cash is our tech guy.” He lifts from his chair. “Let me see what I can do.”
Lacey thanks him with a smile, watching him as he walks away. She bites her lip and I can’t help but notice the way her teeth sink into it. Her lips are plump. I bet they taste sweet too.
“Maybe you two could get me another drink?”
Saint and I exchange a glance. As much as we enjoy a good time, I sense missy here wants to drink to forget. I know more than most how that all ends. Nine times out of ten, you’re ending the night in an even more miserable place than what you began it in.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.”
Lacey frowns, pouting her pretty, pink lips. “God, aren’t you guys supposed to be in charge of entertainment?”
“I don’t think it would be a good idea to?—”
She leaps over the bar in one smooth motion, dress following behind her. She opens up cupboards, brows knitted together as she searches for the tequila, lifting up onto her toes, squatting, walking up and down the bar until she finds what she’s looking for—Don Fulano Fuerte.
“Be careful,” Saint says. “That stuff is strong.”
“What? You guys don’t think I can handle my drink?” She unscrews the cap and flicks it off, pouring a generous amount into her glass. “Where’s the ice?”
Saint and I exchange a look.
“Come on. Either I drink the tequila straight or I dilute it with ice.”
“Should be directly under you.”
She shovels a portion from the box and adds it to her drink, hopping down to rejoin us.
“You know,” Saint says. “You’re supposed to pay for that…but it doesn’t matter. Just don’t tell Ash.”
