I grabbed my bag and then led Cash down to my car where Grip, one of the new prospects, was waiting by my car.
Cash handed him my keys. “Drop her car at my place, lock it up and take the keys back to the club. We’ll swing by and pick them up later.”
“No problem. I’ll take care of it, Teagan.”
I smiled but couldn’t stop myself from moving closer to Cash. “I appreciate that, Grip.”
Grip took off and Cash focused on me. “Does he still creep you out?”
There had been an incident not long ago where Grip and his best buddy, Hammer were talking smack about Daisy, more specifically, Hammer was talking about how he’d like to fuckDaisy and fuck her dirty. Huck overhead this and laid Hammer flat. Hammer had since been kicked out by Hatch and Grip was hanging on by a thread because he was behaving himself. For now.
“No, it was Hammer that was the real creep, but they’re buddies, so I’m still a little leery of Grip, you know?”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” Cash said, unlocking his truck and holding the door open for me.
“What do you mean?” I asked as I climbed up in the cab.
He closed my door and then climbed in beside me and started the engine. “I think he cut him loose after all the shit with Ducky. Distanced himself. He wants his time with the club to work and he knows it can’t if he’s associating with assholes like Hammer.”
“Well, that’s very true.”
We pulled out of the garage and headed down Broadway. “You want to eat in the Pearl or go somewhere down by the water?”
“You pick.”
“Pink Priest?”
“Yes, please,” I said excitedly.
The Pink Priest was a nondescript restaurant in the Pearl and it was one of our favorites. You’d never guess that inside the foyer of the restaurant was a hodgepodge of gold leaf and hot pink, not to mention, glitter covered floors. The Burning Saints VP, Clutch, always said the place looked like gaudy and elegant had a fistfight after drinking one too many lava lamps.
“Welcome to the Pink Priest, my name is Friar Chuck, the Maître’d, do you have a reservation with us this evening?” an extremely large bearded man, wearing a purple paisley robe and a white feather boa asked us.
“No,” Cash said. “Table for two please, if you have it.”
He raised his head and a giant grin settled over his face. “Teagan Reed?”
“Hi Chuck.”
“How’s your sweet lookin’ daddy?”
“He’s good,” I said on a chuckle.
“Follow me.” Chuck grabbed two menus and sashayed his way toward the back, remarkable considering he did it in platform heels.
We were seated by a window overlooking the Willamette and had just ordered drinks when Cash got a call. He frowned. “Hey, Grip.” Cash flopped back in his chair with a scowl. “What the fuck? Yeah, yeah, send it to Booker and we’ll be there after dinner. Yeah, good call. I appreciate it. Okay, yeah. Thanks.” He hung up and set his phone on the table.
I raised an eyebrow and sipped my wine. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t think I want to tell you untilafterwe eat.”
“Shit, that bad?”
“After.”
“You have to tell menow, Cash. I won’t be able to keep anything down if I’m worrying.”
“Grip dropped your car off at my place, and Razor picked him up, but as they drove off, they noticed someone drive up. Razor pulled over and Grip got out and doubled back. Someone was fuckin’ with your car.”
