Frustrated, I yank open the drawer and grab the first pair of briefs I see. Then jeans. A T-shirt. Anything to put a layer between me and this conversation.
“Kyler—”
I don’t wait. I need space. Air. Something that doesn’t smell like her or sound like her voice.
Barefoot, I tiptoe into the living room and jam my feet into my shoes. A minute later, I’m storming down the stairs and into the bar.
“Whiskey. Rocks. Make it a double,” I mutter to West, the prospect on duty.
As he pours, he squints at me. “Everything okay, Boss?”
“I’m not your boss,” I snap, grabbing the glass and turning away. I don’t want to lie to anyone tonight, but I sure as hell can’t tell the truth either.
I make for the couch tucked in the far corner—quiet, dark, safe.
Away from questions. Away from her.
I drop down hard and pick up a beer coaster from the table, spinning it between my fingers like it might distract me fromthe mess in my chest. I take a long pull from the glass, let the whiskey burn down into the hollow parts.
Of course, it doesn’t take long. My brother drops down beside me without asking.
“One ofthosenights?” he mutters, nodding toward West, then at me.
“Not now,” I grumble.
“I didn’t even say anything yet.” He undoes the bun on his head and shakes out his blond hair like we’re not having a moment. Like this isnormal.
He runs both hands through it and glances over. “This okay?”
I roll my eyes and take another drink. “Like I can stop you.”
“No.” Pax picks up his glass and grins. “What’d she do?”
“Why’d you assume this has anything to do with Layne?” I rest my wrist on my knee and stare into my glass.
Meanwhile, Pax swirls his whiskey and strokes his lower lip with his thumb. “Because women push us to drink?”
“Good point.” I sigh and sink back into the sofa. “I don’t want to talk about it, Paxton.”
“Paxton?” A slight pout forms on his lower lip. “If we’re going to say that, we’re getting serious.Kyler.” He flashes another wide grin, but his eyes remain emotionless. Sometimes I wonder if he still feels anything after what happened with Violet. “Anyway, The Kid called.”
I turn to my little brother, glad for the distraction. “About what?”
“He said he had some information for us. Wanting to discuss it privately, he asked us to visit.” He shrugs.
I put down the coaster. “So that’s why you came? If that’s the case, why don’t we leave now?”
“Good question.” He downs his glass and gets up. “When you’re done crying, I’m ready to go.”
I get up and shove him against his shoulder. “Shut up, man.”
Outside, I get on my Indian, start the engine, and kick up the stand.
We park two streets over from the club. It could be a trap, so we want to check things out first. We linger on the street corner for about fifteen minutes. To look inconspicuous, I light a cigarette and watch the crowd. My gaze wanders over the rooftops, but there’s nothing unusual to be seen.
“I seriously feel like it’s legitimate,” I tell Pax.
He takes another drag and looks up. “Hmm,” he grumbles. Then he exhales the smoke through his nose, throws the cigarette butt on the ground, and stomps it out. ”I think so too. You coming?”
