Page 75 of Hidden Desires
Marcus’s name flashed across the screen.
He didn’t need Marcus coming down and beating his ass again.
Blade ignored the call, sending it straight to voicemail.
After Blade had his ass handed to him—in front of all his brothers and even Ace—he had hopped on his bike and headed West. He didn’t have a destination in mind. It was mostly just a way to get as far away from Marcus and his shame as fast as possible.
After about an hour of riding, he stopped into the first half-decent motel he found and booked a room for the night.
Part of him was having trouble leaving Ace, part of him just really wanted a drink.
Nothing numbs one’s pain and sorrow like whiskey and Jack. His two new best friends.
He wished he were drunk.
He had come into the bar intending to get shit-faced and then crawl out of the bar at the end of the night, but instead, hehad been nursing his drinks. Taking sips here and there, making them all last for hours at a time.
Part of him wondered if the reason he didn’t want to get shit-faced was because of Ace. What if he needed him? What if he called him? He wanted to be able to ride just in case the smiling twink reached out and asked him to come.
Yeah, like that would ever happen. There was still Marcus to contend with. The guy was probably standing in front of the door, making sure his brother stayed inside.
Still, just sitting in the bar, taking random drinks, seemed to help quiet his brain.
Blade took another drink.
“Now, there is a man who looks like he has just had his heart ripped out of his chest,” a voice said beside him.
From the corner of his eye, he watched as a rough-looking man sat down on the stool next to him.
Blade ignored him.
“Oof, must have been a doozy. Judging by that shiner on your cheek and busted lip, I’m guessing either you were caught by the lady's husband, or caught by the dude’s big brother.”
Slowly, Blade turned his head, eyes falling on the scorpion tattoo inked on the man’s left hand.
Glancing up at the stranger, Blade wondered why he mentionedbeing caught by the dude’s big brother. What did that mean?
“Do I know you, bud?” Blade asked before taking another sip of his whiskey.
At this point, he didn’t care who the guy was or if the man wanted to fight. He was feeling agitated and would happily take out his aggression on any man willing to put up his fists.
“Nah, you don’t know me. I just recognize when a man’s had the shit beaten out of him by a former best friend.”
Okay. Now the man was starting to piss him off.
Blade swung around on his stool and glared at him.
The man wore a dusty old hat that hung low on his head, covering most of his face, except for the crooked grin staring straight ahead.
Judging by his skin, he appeared to be in his mid-fifties if not older.
“Who the hell are you? And what the fuck do you want?”
The man continued to stare at the row of liquor bottles before them as he slowly swirled the amber liquid in the glass he held.
He reminded Blade of John Wayne or one of those crazy Western cowboys who ended up shooting up the joint just to get someone’s attention.
Blade’s cell rang once again.
