Barnes’ eyes flew wide. “I didn’t think—”
King jacked him in the face, and I pulled back and clocked him when he spun my direction. He hit the gravel hard, and I stepped on him instead of over him as I headed for the front door.
“How long has whatever the fuck that was been going on?” King asked as he followed me into the gloomy short hall. I flicked a glance over my shoulder but kept walking.
Rock music blared, and I shivered at the sudden assault as I stepped fully into the barroom. The air was smokier than usual with a weed cloud hanging low, and every single barstool had an ass on it. The couches were full of men laughing and talking. There was a pool game in full swing, and some Harlots stood around the table flirting with a couple of men. Overhead, the lights had black bulbs in them, and someone had strung purple twinkle lights across the ceiling in rows that made me dizzy if I stared; they were new and probably wouldn’t last long before something happened to them.
Josh was behind the bar running back and forth like he had a motor strapped to his ass, bouncing from one person to the next. The mirror that backed the shelves of alcohol was cracked and hadn’t been that way before I left. Tips were slid Josh’s way. No one really paid for drinks here, but they did give us money when we served them. I started that direction to help.
“Hunter, how long has he been bothering you?” King asked louder, still right behind me. I fidgeted and rubbed my hands on my sides. My leg gave a sharp pang and I stopped to catch my breath.
“A while.”
He came around to my side, and I had trouble deciding what it meant when he touched my shoulder lightly. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”
I didn’t bother answering him because if he didn’t know why I wouldn’t run to him with a problem from a brother when I’m only a prospect, he didn’t actually know a thing about his own club. I shook my head.
“Why are you back already?”
That question made me twitch, and he drew away his hand. I should maybe tell him sooner rather than later what went down in New York City today. Hell, maybe he’d heard about it on the news. I was sure an explosion might rate some coverage. I was still shaken up about everything that had happened, though grateful any evidence that might link me to a… a death was smoke and ashes. I’d never been under that sort of gunfire before. My fingers twitched and my left hand shook. I shoved it into my pocket to hide my weakness from anyone in here who might be looking for it—from King.
“I… I just wanted to be home. I like it better here.” His boots were scuffed. I stared at them instead of his face. He just stood there, so I raised my gaze. He lifted an eyebrow at me, knew I was full of shit, but I hoped he wouldn’t dig too deep.
“Hunter, about that shit between us—”
“It’s me. I have… had a problem.” This had cleared up for me while I was gone. I was feeling awkward, and who knew how long it would take for that to disappear, but seeing how quickly something I’d thought was really special could vanish, it made me want to try a little harder for this… whatever it was with King. He lowered his head, maybe so he could hear me better, and looked a hell of a lot like Grant with concern tightening the corners of his mouth and eyes. “I’m sorry. About yelling. When you told me. I… I mean that.”
“Me too. Sorry, I mean.” He sounded as uncomfortable as I ever did, and also grateful that I’d brought it up. This time when he rested his hand on my shoulder, I leaned into it.
“I’m not Forrest.” I had to shout to be heard over a loud burst of laughter from the bar.
“No one said you were.”
“I’m not bubbly like he is.”
King laughed. “Never accused you of that.”
“But I’m loyal,” I whispered, and fuck everything, I blinked back some stupid fucking water out of my eyes and repeated myself.
“I know.”
Nodding, I cleared my throat. “So nothing worth mentioning happened with Barnes.” King eyed me like he thought different, and I rushed on. “But New York City….”
“You want to go into my office and discuss it?”
I shook my head.
“Okay….”
Behind us there was a shout, and King lifted his head and smiled. I turned to see who had his attention. Grant and Reaper came into the barroom, with Grant marching directly for us. He didn’t look happy.
“You must have been flying like a bat out of hell to beat us here,” Grant half yelled as he stormed toward me. By accident, I backed into King, who steadied me with a solid hand on my shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell us you were going? Forrest and I were worried about you, and then you just took off again? Jamie was worried too.”
“Who’s Jamie?” King asked, but I ignored him.
Grant glowered.
“Uh… I guess so? I said goodbye to Forrest,” I mumbled, and conveniently forgot to say anything about Jamie because… well…. I hated the way I felt inside when I thought about him beingthereand me beinghere. It was stupid to feel any way at all about him.
