“Kill your enemy,” Butch said.
“Yes,” Cole said, leaving a pause in the air, “but you’ll need time to plan it, and we will make sure your initiation coincides with your goals for eradicating the Bandits.”
“How kind,” Mason said dryly.
Neither Butch nor Cole reacted. That was bullshit. Was I being targeted because of my reputation? There was going to be some fucking problems if so.
“In the interim,” Cole continued, “now that you guys have your clubhouse, break it in. Butch and I will come back on Monday, but for now, it’s Friday. Enjoy your weekend, gentlemen. Because when Monday comes, you’re going to learn how to fight in a warzone.”
I was sure that Cole had spoken with seriousness. But as soon as I heard “break it in,” I felt like the beacon had come on requesting my presence. I controlled the influx of women to these parties, and I was the gatekeeper who decided whom I wanted and whom everyone else got. Brock and Steele getting in with the Rogers girls, though amusing from the perspective of “why the fuck would you ever put all your fucking into one woman,” actually made my life easier.
More women for fewer men meant those men were happier. And when those men were happier, I got the props. I became the fucking king of the club.
“I’ll start making some phone calls,” I said.
“You do that,” Cole said, and finally, he smiled when he spoke. “Just remember—”
“Be ready Monday, yeah, yeah, I’ll make sure to scale back the shots Sunday night.”
“Garrett, you motherfucker,” Connor said.
“How many you think?” I said, looking to Brock. “You got your Rogers girls. Professor Smartass, any co-eds you could invite?”
“Of course,” Zack said. “You think I’d take courses and not hit on some girls?”
“I don’t know, nerd,” I said, an amusing remark considering Zack was still tough as fuck; he just also happened to be smart as fuck.
I looked around at the rest of the group. Connor and I knew mostly the same girls. That just left one person to ask.
But it was the very same person who had told me earlier in the day that it was his sister who was probably coming. It was the very same person whom, when I had cracked a joke about introducing her to the club lifestyle, had told me he would kick my ass if I came anywhere near her.
Well, on the one hand, I truthfully didn’t seek to stir drama. We had enough bullshit with the Bandits, and I practically had a buffet of options on my phone if I so chose.
But on the other hand…
I knew his sister, Hannah, but I hadn’t seen her in nearly eight years, before Mason had gotten her her own place and given strict orders to stay the hell away from the rest of us. Back then, though I was a teenager and she was one as well, I’d never found her that attractive. She wasn’t unattractive by any means—she had jet black hair, a nose stud, and a highly underrated and not-visible-enough rack—but she wasn’t the first person my eyes usually fell to. It was a good enough excuse, anyway, to ensure I didn’t draw the wrath of Mason.
But it had been nearly eight fucking years. I’d seen a lot of girls I knew in my youth go from boring and plain to porn-star hot. Had she changed at all?
I was feeling a little rebellious right now. I wouldn’t make it a point to do anything stupid, but…
Well, between Butch and Mason and Cole and every-fucking-one else trying to be “so serious,” I felt like I had to remind people that life didn’t need to be so serious.
After all, when it got that way, things fell apart in a tragic, brutally painful fashion.
* * *
Hannah Jett
It was late on a Thursday night and I was alone in my apartment on the north side of Santa Maria, cooking some ramen noodles as I prepared to sit down for my online psychology course. Outside, the sun had set on another New Mexico day, and the town had settled into a quiet peace.
At least, my side had.
Where I was, it was mostly retired people. My brother had to deal with a lot of shit in the middle of town and on the east side, and I think he very much preferred to keep me around the senior citizens instead of the assholes. After all, if someone attacked me here, they’d do so with a cane or judgmental words about my dress, not fists and abductions and much worse.
I finished my ramen noodles, sat down, opened the Google Doc to do my homework, and—
BAM BAM BAM BAM.
