“You.”
My head swiveled to look at him in surprise. “Me? What about me?”
“I got it wrong before. Let’s put it down to me being out of practice.” He leaned forward, shuffling his ass back in the seat as he parted his knees and held the hotdog out in the space between them. “You’re not a hundred and twenty pounds at all. I’m guessing one eighteen. I over estimated the meat on your ass.” Drew turned to look at me, the smirk playing on his lips making me want to smack it off him instantly as he heldmy gaze and waited.
“Very impressive, Mr. Tucker,” I said. “Are you saying my ass isn’t as big as you’d assumed?”
“It’s got nothing on your mouth, doll.”
My eyes widened, then narrowed in one jerky movement. I stopped myself and counted to ten, averting my gaze to the field where our offense was making the snap. I had to think about what I said. The kid currently sprinting toward the end zone was counting on me and I couldn’t let him down.
“I realize that, and I’m going to try and work on that, too. I’m just grateful for the opportunity to work this off.”
Before he could respond, I was on my feet, watching Tate sprint down the field, but covering my face at an interception. It was only when I realized Drew might conceive it as being rude that I glanced down at him again.
When he looked up at me with nothing but light in his face, I thought I’d gotten away with it for a moment. It was only when he groaned deep in the back of his throat and slowly began to rise to a stand that I felt the small hairs on the back of my neck begin to come alive again. Drew gazed out at the field, pretending to be interested, before his feet shuffled closer and his body leaned down towards me to whisper.
“Keep working on it. I don’t need any lip from you in front of my guys. Don’t give me a reason to be that typical asshole you have me pegged as, Ayda.” His eyes lifted to mine, looking up at me through the thick of his brows expectantly. “Just remember, I’m always watching you both now. You’re on my books, which makes you like an asset to me. I protect what’s mine.” And before I could even respond, he’d slipped some kind of paper in my pocket, whispered in my ear about me getting something to eat, dropped his emptyhot dog tray on the side, and started to slide out of the row full of spectators. Just. Like. That.
I waited for a while before looking over my shoulder at his retreating back. The skull on his leather vest seemed to be smiling at me as his confident gait carried him out of my view. I wasn’t the only one watching. Everyone who had seen him come in seemed to be turned away from the game as he left, all of those eyes spinning back to me the moment he was out of view.
There was arrogance in the way he carried himself, but at the same time, I knew it was also confidence. He seemed to understand the gravity of his status and he used it. There was a certain appeal to that, even if it did make me want to kick his shins like an elementary kid.
Glancing down at my hand, my eyes widened and then look around before doing a double take. The five and zero were still staring up at me the second time around, and without thinking, I pushed the fifty-dollar bill back into my jeans.
I didn’t know what Drew wanted when he’d shown up. It was a rare thing for him to be alone from what I’d heard, so him being there without backup had probably spoken volumes. From the eyes still burning holes all over me, I guessed I wasn’t the only one who was thinking that.
If his visit had done anything, it had shown me that he wasn’t just the jacked up asshole he seemed to be when surrounded by his friends. That wasn’t to say he didn’t demand respect and obedience from the people around him, and the way he spoke, it was easy to see why people complied.
I’d also discovered that he was generous. He’d left a decent tip at the diner for me that morning, but the money now burning a hole in my pocket told me that while digging forinformation about me, he’d probably seen my bank balance. Whether this was pity or kindness, I couldn’t afford not to take it, even if my pride did take a hit.
I was dreading what Sunday would bring. He’d demanded my respect in front of his men, which meant curbing myself, as well as my natural reactions to everything. At least it would prove to be interesting. If I could get through repaying this debt, I could literally get through anything.
Chapter Fourteen
Drew
There was one thing I hadn’t taken into consideration when I’d fallen back into that chair around the table:
The working hours.
As with everything any of us did for the club, it was voluntary and for a greater good. Each man played his part, did his piece, and worked as hard as he could to make us stronger, more united and more profitable in the community. The problem I was having right then was figuring out what the fuck I was, apart from a puffy chest, a man with a swagger, and Ayda Hanagan’s personal watcher.
I wasn’t sure what had driven me to go to the game the previous night. I guess the only way I could explain any of it was that she provided me with something I’d not had in such a long time
Power.
I knew I had that over my fellow man and I knew I had that within the club without question. All it would take for me to regain what I once had was a snap of my fingers and a pointed look at Jedd to get the fuck out of my chair. I’d be the chief again. I’d be the alpha dog. I’d bethatguy.
Only I wasn’t sure if that’s what anybody wantedanymore. Not them, not me, not a single one of us. Inside, I’d been certain that I’d take my role as President of The Hounds of Babylon seriously the second I got out. But once out, I wasn’t sure about anything. I didn’t know why my steps suddenly sounded too heavy against the ground. I didn’t know whether my plain white T-shirt hung right underneath my oversized leather cut anymore. I had no clue who I owed my life to and whether or not my eyes still had that Grecian sea glow to them, like my mama always said they did. It wasn’t just about me taking one day at a time now. This was about me taking one minute at a time. 5:01 p.m. Survived that shit. 5:02 p.m. Still standing strong. 5:03 p.m. Ain’t no flies on me, brother. 5:04 p.m. I’m itching and twitching, but I’m doing the best I can. 5:05 p.m. I need myself a motherfucking beer.
No two moments were the same. No two thoughts went that way, either.
So when I found myself at that football game last night, it wasn’t just Ayda that was surprised. I was riding that wave with her. The thing I knew above all else was that I had to let her know. I had to show her that, no matter how confident and smart her mouth got, I would always be there in the background, watching, smirking, judging. She was in my pocket now—her and her brother. They owed me. They owed my club.
Saturday came and went without too many thoughts dragging me down or crippling me. I carried on with the train of thought that I’d shaken her up enough to make sure as shit she turned up on our doorstep on Sunday night, and quite honestly, as much as I enjoyed screwing with her, she was the least of my concerns.
When Sunday morning came around, after a previousfull day of dealings over the pawn business with Harry, discussing the accounts of the place and how he saw the gold market being the most profitable for us right now, my mind was shriveling up as much as my balls were. The fact that I’d had Jedd waiting for me, too, only made things worse. I had a million things to sign that were way overdue in connection to the repo business, but I just couldn’t find my enthusiasm. It seemed I was jumping out of the prison ice freeze and straight into the MC’s financial fires. I was tired. I was pacing. I was trying like hell to adjust before anyone noticed.
