“Fuck the paint,” Tank says, “I just wish he’d stop asking me to order all these random parts he finds online, which are actually shit and won’t help the bike in any way.”
Slim slams his drink down onto the table. “Fucking civilians, they watch one TV drama about a motorcycle club and think they know their shit, pisses me off.”
He rarely speaks, but when he does, it’s usually to make an angry comment about civilians. Being ex-military, he doesn’t trust people outside of that world, unless they’ve had his back in some way. We’ve all been through some pretty serious shit with him so we’re in the inner circle.
Ana and Imogen approach the table. I don’t make eye contact with either of them, so they opt to sit on the laps of Tank and Pretty Boy instead, but I can sense Imogen’s eyes on me. I know they must have noticed and talked about the fact that I haven’t spent any time with them since before Donovan’s leaving party. Shit, it’s been nearly two weeks since I’ve gotten laid, which is unusual for me. I don’t know why I’ve let Elizabeth fuck with my head like this…
“Hello, earth to Diablo,” Ana says, waving her hand in front of my face.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I ask.
“I said, how is Donovan getting on at Winbrook?”
“Good, I think, he’s sent me a couple of messages, but I haven’t heard much.”
“We should call him,” Imogen says.
“Not a bad idea,” I say, taking my phone out of my pocket, noticing that there are also no new messages from someone else either.
I phone Donovan and put it on speaker, placing my phone in the center of the table, it only takes a few rings for him to answer. Dance music blares through, accompanied by the sound of what’s clearly a party. Donovan’s voice is muffled.
“Give me a moment D, just heading outside where it’s quiet.”
“Partying already?” Pretty Boy says, “I thought he was out there for some special study program for smart people?”
“He is,” I say, hoping he’s taking this opportunity seriously.
“Give him a break,” Ana says, “it’s Saturday night.”
The music coming through the speaker lessens and Donovan’s voice comes through clearly.
“Hey D, what’s up?”
“Hey, little bro,” I say, “we’re just hanging out, you’ve got the guys, Ana, and Imogen, on speaker.”
They shout their greetings down the phone, and he laughs.
“Hey everyone, I would say I’m missing you, but as you can probably hear, I’m having a blast.”
“Sounds like it,” I say, “as long as you’re using that brain of yours for work too.”
“Yeah,” Pretty Boy says, “not just to impress collegechicks at parties.”
“Come on, you know me, I’m working too, I promise,” Donovan says, “wait, is Beth not there?”
The mention of her name makes my chest constrict.
“No, why?” I ask.
Donovan sighs. “I made her promise that she’d go to the clubhouse when she was invited, I don’t want her being by herself at home all weekend. I thought you invited her, Ana?”
“I did,” Ana says, “I told you I messaged her earlier.”
If Elizabeth was invited, why isn’t she here? And she hasn’t replied to my messages either. Shit, what if something bad has happened to her? I knew I shouldn’t have left her in that shady apartment complex on her own.
Fuck.
“Did she give you a reason why she couldn’t come?” Donovan asks.
