“C’mere.” Mace pulls her into a kiss that makes me shake my head and look away.
There’s no denying the newlyweds are good together. Really good.
The future of this club, if I have anything to say about it. Mace will inevitably—and officially—take over once Tom finally accepts his time is over. And Sydney? She’s Head Old Lady material in spades.
Smart, fierce, loyal to the bone.
Seeing these two together makes me think about Solana and how much I care about her. She’s basically my old lady now, even if not everybody in the club approves of it.
Moses has been shooting me dirty looks for days, his jaw tight with restrained fury every time we’re in the same room. Then there’s Big Eddie, who’s conveniently been absent any time I’ve been around.
If I had to guess why, he’s aware he’ll fight me if we’re ever around each other again. He also probably knows I won’t hold back this time. Not after Solana told me all the horrible shit he said to her.
He called her easy. A club girl. Aplaything.
Anger courses through me just thinking about it.
But today’s her birthday, so I’m focused on celebrating her and hopefully keeping tensions in the club to a minimum.
Mick comes in from the stockroom, wiping his hands on a rag and stepping behind the counter. “The birthday girl showing up anytime soon? I’m gonna whip her up a special birthday cocktail. Like a Mai Tai, but extra special. My own recipe.”
I crack a small smile. “Appreciate that, Mick.”
“I’m just grateful we’re not ostracizing her after what’s happened.”
“You kidding?” Sydney says with a dismissive laugh. “Why would we? Weknowyou, Silver. We know what kind of man you are. If you and Solana are together, then we know you must really care about her.”
“Just like he cared about Rachel.”
We’ve been joined by another party.
This time that person entering through the front doors of the saloon. We turn our heads toward the raspy voice, unsurprised to discover Tom standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the afternoon light.
He’s flanked by his new little entourage—Bush with his grizzly, unkempt beard, Johnny Flanagan with his greasy sheets of shoulder-length hair, and Moses, whose glare could cut glass.
They’ve become Tom’s shadows since he returned from prison and took back the gavel. His loyal dogs.
Tom strides into the barroom, his boots producing heavy thunks on the wooden floorboards. He holds my gaze the entire time, a mocking smile playing on his roughhewn face.
“Isn’t that right, Jack?” he asks, stopping a few feet away, thumbs hooked in his belt. “You used to say Rachel was the only girl for you.”
“That was twenty years ago, Tom,” I answer, tension hardening my jaw. “Things change.”
He cackles in answer, then adds, “Things certainlydochange. But some others stay the same. I just hope you’re not gonna break this one’s heart too.”
He brushes past me, heading for the office, and slams the door shut behind him.
Bush, Johnny, and Moses take seats at a table on the far side of the room. They don’t acknowledge us or even look our way. It’s as if we’re enemies by association. As if we’re already on opposite sides of a war that hasn’t been declared yet.
I ball my hands into fists.
“Silver...” Sydney mutters in warning.
But I’m already moving, striding across the barroom and straight toward the back office. I shove open the door, not bothering to knock. Tom’s behind the desk, settling into the chair like he’s a king who’s returned to his throne.
His head snaps up when I enter, irritation flashing across his face. “You don’t knock before entering now?”
“I’ll be damned if I knock before entering our club office,” I growl, stalking toward the desk. “You’re not a king, Tom. I don’t have to ask your fucking permission. It’s time we set things straight.”
