We all turn to Nate, who slumps in his chair, letting out a small groan. “I guess her life at the club is pretty shitty. Who wouldn’t want to work for some kickass rockers like us?”
“Is that a yes?” I ask, hopeful.
Nate rolls his eyes, reaching for another muffin. “Just don’t fuck like rabbits on the tour bus and shit. Or if you do, be fucking quiet about it, okay?”
The rest of us laugh before I dip my head at him with a smile.
Nate takes a bite of his muffin and dips his head back in response.
We don’t need to say anything else.
Just a simple head bob between us is enough to know we’ve apologized to each other.
Because that’s how men do it.
We talk without saying anything at all.
As I pick up my coffee mug, a sense of something flows through me.
Lunar is coming with us.
The guys are on board.
And this feels like it is the start of something that has been building for a long fucking time, and maybe, just maybe, now we have the right balance of things working for us to make Recoil hit it big.
Fuck, I hope this feeling is right.
Chapter Sixteen
LUNAR
Three Days Later
Techie is helping me with everything I need. I’ve been back at the club, packing and organizing my stuff. He knows I’m going to leave, but I have to find the courage to tell the president, Mad Dog.
He’s unpredictable, erratic, unstable at best, and in his words,a cunt,but hopefully, he will understand why I need to go. I’m of no use here anymore, and with Steel’s ban on the brothers coming to me for ‘servicing,’ I’m a drain on them.
At least, I hope that’s how Mad Dog will see it, but the man is mercurial at the best of times.
Before seeing Mad Dog, I need to knock some sense into an old friend. It might take some manipulation, but I know Techie’s tried and failed to have Steel come out of his room. He is so lost over losing Willow a month ago that he is floundering in a pile of filth and booze. The problem with that is, he’s the vice president of this club, and he is losing the respect of his brothers because of—as they put it—some prissy pussy.
I make my way down to his room, a room I know so well, and take a deep breath. I don’t bother knocking because he will probably tell me to go away, so instead, I walk in. His room stinks—like body odor, farts, and bourbon. He’s lying beside his dog, Cassius, in bed. Steel doesn’t look up as I sit on the mattress, but Cassius peeps up at me, and I pet his furry head.
Gazing at the chaos before me, I’ve never seen Steel like this.
He’s in a damn mess.
A complete wreck.
His beard has grown long and unkempt, his eyes are bloodshot, and his complexion is pale and pasty. He looks like shit! And it doesn’t upset me. No. It infuriates me. This tough, strong biker is deteriorating before my eyes, and he is allowing it to happen.
“Right, you! You need to get out of this damn room.” I rest my hand on his shoulder to let him know I’m here and to show support despite the fact he lashed out at me the last time we interacted.
He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know how.”
My eyes remain in a firm glare. “You’ve gotta make a choice… move forward or go after her. But either way, you stink. You’re supposed to be a damn biker and the VP of this club. Right now, Steel, you’ve lost the respect of your brothers by sulking around in here like a child.”
He scoffs and pushes my hand off his shoulder. “Fuck off! Don’t need your advice.”
