Page 72 of Nothing to Lose: Lost Trilogy: Part 1
I don’t say anything more after that. I leave his room and rush to mine. My own bag is all packed and hidden in the back of my closet. I grab it and shove my laptop in it, then sneak my way outside, trying to act as casual as possible while walking with a big ass bag to the back of the property.
I let out a sigh of relief when I don’t run into anyone. With all the members being busy at this time of day, it’s not totally unusual for the yard to be empty.
I throw the bag in the back and jump in the passenger seat as soon as I spot the truck. It is a clunker for sure, but something that could not be controlled remotely if anyone would be so inclined. Although, the only person in the club I know who could do it is Shortie, and he is on our side.
My phone keeps on beeping in my pocket, driving me crazy, but I am too freaked out to check what it’s about.
Sully is quiet until we pull into the lot at the strip club. He finds a parking spot closer to the door, but also hidden.
“Show time,” he mutters before he gets out.
My phone beeps again, and I am finally mentally prepared to process information, so I take a look at it. Three texts.
Emily: hey, do you have a minute
Emily: I need to tell you something
Emily: kind of important, I think, not sure
And just as I’m staring at my phone, a fourth text pops up.
Emily: Can you call me?
I am thinking that if there was any emergency, she’d have said so. Since she didn’t, I don’t have time to just get on the phone and chat. Now is not a good time for her to text bomb me. I got actual bombs to worry about.
Puck: not a good time, stay the fuck put and be patient
There’s no answer to that, and now I feel guilty. But fuck, I am actually dealing with a life or death situation. I need to get out of this alive so I can go to her. I miss her like fuckin’ crazy. I can’t afford to die.
“Ready?” Sully knocks on my window, eyeing me with worry.
I get out of the truck, and we both walk toward the entrance to the club. As soon as we get in, I come face to face with Lala.
“Puck,” she plasters herself against my chest, arms around my neck, lips a breath away from mine. “I’ve missed you so much, babe.”
When she pushes her chest more against me, I lose my balance and my hands come up to hold her still.
Lala takes that as permission to do more, and, since she’s got six inch heels on, which put her at eye level with me, she slams her lips over mine.
Fuck, I’m in trouble.
22
Puck
The next morningdoesn’t come soon enough. I am feeling all out of sorts. Spending the night at the strip club was a terrible idea. Lala was all over me, I couldn’t get rid of her to save me life. While I didn’t actually fuck her, there was some inappropriate touching happening, mostly on her part but which I didn’t stop. It only served as a confirmation that I only want Emily.
Now it is the morning after, I feel guilty as fuck, and I just want to call my girl. I check on my phone, but there are no new messages. I never called or texted her back last night, and she never sent me anything either. Now I wonder what the fuck she had so important to tell me.
Shortie joined us at some point during the night. He was all jumpy and shit, to the point where I wanted to slap him.
“Ready?” Sully lifts his chin at me in question.
“Let’s fuckin’ hope so,” I mutter under my breath and get in the rusty truck. Shortie realized at the last minute that he’d forgotten something back at his house.
The drive to where Wrecker is located is long as fuck. It’s giving me way too much time to think.
I grab my phone to call Emily. It goes straight to voicemail like her phone is off.
