She laughs at us speaking at the same time. Handlebar carefully takes her arm and guides her back a few steps telling her to be careful. The blonde is now thoroughly preoccupied by Casper.
We turn back to the horrific task at hand and together with the help of a couple of other guys, we get all the bikes set right.
Handlebar shakes his head when he sees the damage the hard gravel floor has done to the underside of my bike. I can’t help the litany of curses that fall from my lips. I’ve barely had it back a week. This is why I hate coming here, this shit wouldn’t happen at my clubhouse.
“That kid is more trouble than he’s fucking worth.”
“Why are you letting these little assholes get away with this shit?”
“What are you saying exactly?” Handlebar straightens his back.
“I thought that was obvious. He was at my clubhouse he’d have been kicked out already. I’m guessing this isn’t his first fuck up.”
His eyes harden but he doesn’t answer, which tells me everything.
“I thought your chapter ran tighter than this.”
“Mace,” Waverley hisses.
I don’t give a shit. I said it and I meant it. It doesn’t even bother me when I see King standing on the steps behind me. Turning, I give him a look that says I’m not taking it back. He doesn’t scare me.
The problem is, more people than Waverley and Handlebar heard me saying it. That is the only thing that has me grimacing. Fuck. Nothing shows on my face as I stare at the President.
The patch on my chest is my only saving grace. As much as people here despise me, that gives me some authority and speaking to another Prez in this way shouldn’t be of anyone else’s concern.
Our situation is different, but I don’t give a shit when faced with the disaster of my bike being fucked.
“Party is over,” King says, not taking his eyes off me. “Any bikes that need repairs leave them here, they’ll be moved to the garage. Everyone else, go home.Everyone.”
That emphasis was all for me. People begin to disperse and a lot of looks are cast my way.
“Jesus, Mace,” Waverley says under her breath.
“You think I’m gonna apologize? Or that King even expects me to.”
“You’re probably right,” she smirks.
Out of all the women I’ve come across in this life, Waverley is one of the very few who straddles the line of knowing when to fight and when to keep her mouth shut.
Rosa gets out of a car I didn’t hear pulling up. I’m about to turn away and figure out whether the bike is ridable when the driver gets out.
Fuck she looks sexy as sin. She’s more casual than I’ve ever seen her. In the skintight skirts and sexy blouses she wears for work, she’s a solid twelve. In workout pants and a baggy t-shirt, tied at her midriff, she looks like she just got out of bed, after a seriously good time.
Beside me, Handlebar lets out a groan. We have something in common when it comes to Cassie Beillo. I’ve played up to it in the past, tried to get a rise out of him but it’s never going to be an actual competition. I’m not looking for an old lady.
Something tells me Cassie would never fit that mold. She’s smart, stubborn, opinionated and has a sarcastic mouth on her. Her disdain forthe lifestyle is disguised for the most part. Which intrigues me, because she is the club lawyer. You can’t get more dubiously and intricately involved in an MC than defending the oftentimes shady actions that go on.
Family loyalty. I wonder how much it plays on her mind that her hands are as dirty as everyone else here.
Shit, I drag my eyes away and put a hand on the seat of my bike and crouch down. The fucking gear shift in front of the pedal is bent to hell and pointing in the wrong direction.
There is no way I’m riding this out of here tonight, even if Handlebar would be amenable to fixing it right now.
The last thing I want to do is spend another hour here, let alone the night.
Chapter Seven
Cassie
