“You heard anything from him?”
I wished.
“No, but then no one tells me anything either.” I paused for a second to look at my fingernails. "I'm sure he's fine."
Oh boy. How many times had I used and heard someone use the word "fine" to describe how they were doing?I could happily go the rest of my life without hearing that vague term ever again.
Blake sighed. "Sounds like a mess. That crew’s nothingto fool around with though." He raised both his black eyebrows. "You need to be careful until it all gets sorted out."
The urge to laugh was right on my tongue. Sleeping at Dex's alone was definitely being careful. Right.
I flinched a little at the thought. Where the heck had I gotten so negative? It was weird.
He shrugged. “Well, let me know if you hear anything about him. I need to go set up for my next client.”
The bald man I'd seen twice flickered through my brain. Then the memory of being terrified at Dex's house pushed that one aside.
The need to work out the issue going on with my dad seemed too important all of a sudden to leave Sonny to deal with it alone. It wasn't friggin' fair for either one of us. Plus, would they really do something to me? Oh boy, I hoped not. "Wait! Blake!"
He paused at the door, looking over his shoulder. "Yeah?"
I snapped my fingers together to play off the question poised on my tongue. “What's the name of the president of that Reapers club? The bald guy?" I was so full of shit but I knew Blake wouldn't tell me if I made it seem that Dex had hidden something like that from me.
Blake's face scrunched up. "Liam?"
I snapped my fingers like a little liar. "Yeah, I couldn't remember." I smiled at him as he shrugged and made his way toward the front, leaving me in the back to try and figure out a way to get the guy's last name without being conspicuous.
And that would be by asking Slim when Blake was busy. Sometimes a girl's gotta do, what a girl's gotta do. In my case, it wasfinding a way back to Sonny's.
Chapter Nineteen
Standing outside of the strip club, I knew what I was about to do was monumentally stupid. Astronomically dumb. And if—okay,when—my brother found out, he'dmore than likelytry to strangle me.
But screw it. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and I was used to dealing with things onmy own. If the tables had been turned andI’d been the onewho had gotten the shit kicked out of me, every nerve cell in my brain was confident that Sonny wouldhave done something equally as stupid to get me back.
I wasn't about to let him down when he needed me for the first time.
That's exactly what I kept telling myself as I flashed my license at the bouncer standing at the entrance. He looked at me, then my ID, and then back at me before waving me in.
I really was a moron.
After asking Slim in passing what the last name of "that Liam guy" was, I'd then asked him "where do the Reapers hang out again? Dex told me not to drive by there but I can't remember the name." My poor, sweet Slim hadansweredso nonchalantly, he never couldhave expected that I was planning on visiting the rival motorcycle club.
Or...maybe he just didn't assume I'd be that dumb. You know, being the daughter of a former member of the Widowmakers, and that specific member happened to owe them a crap-ton of money. And the half-sister of a current member that they'd beat the crap out of. Triple theshit factor, and also the employee of a short-tempered Widow.
Well, I'd had a good run while I had the chance.
Using the excuse that I had a "girl emergency", I'd stormed out of Pins a little after seven. It'd taken me nearly an hour to drive to the strip club the Reapers hung out at in the outskirts of San Antonio. Judging by the five motorcycles I'd seen parked in the lot, I figured at least a few of the members were there.
Hopefully the bald guy was there. He had to be one of the main guys in the MC.
No sooner had I walked into the smoke-machine infested club with two dozen strobe lights and black lights dazzling the room, did I spot the corner where five very gruff looking men sat like kings.
The bald guy was hanging off the edge of his seat, looking more bored than entranced by the monstrous E-cup breasts onstage. My hands had started shaking at some point, so I clenched them into fists and took a deep breath.
Sonny would do worse than this for me.
Plus, they wouldn't kill me or do something crazy like that in public? Right? I friggin' hoped so.
