We hit the corridor, and I sent him a warning look. “I don’t wanna talk, brother.”
“I bet,” Bootneck bit back as we hit the courtyard and headed toward the clubhouse. “You never wanna talk about it when your PTSD hits. When are you gonna learn, bro? That’s when youshouldtalk about it. When was the last time you slept?”
I glanced at him, noting the pissed-off look on his face. This wasn’t a conversation I needed to have, but I knew Bootneck would stay on my ass until I gave him what he wanted. “Snatched an hour here and there, but I haven’t slept properly since the night before Ash left me.”
“Thought not,” he shot back. “Did you dream?”
I let out a quiet snort. “What do you think?”
“Want me to get a shrink in from the VA?”
“I’m good, brother,” I assured him. “It’s not the old shit screwin’ with my head. It’s the new shit.”
“Jesus Christ,” Boot muttered. “Bitches are more trouble than they’re worth.”
I nodded along with him, even though I knew it was me who’d fucked up with Aislynn. I’d overreacted, but I was angry because it took me a long time and a lot of persuasion to talk Hank into letting the Kings deal with Deputy Huntley. I had a plan for our resident fuckhead, but I wouldn’t be able to carry it out if Gracie made a complaint and got him incarcerated.
Huntley Junior had become a liability to my club, and I couldn’t afford to keep him around. I made a promise to Hank Young that the sick fuck would pay the ultimate price for what he did to Gracie, but Aislynn’s interference hindered that.
Huntley was law enforcement and had friends in high places. If Gracie made a complaint, the chances were that Junior would be investigated, but in the end, it would come down to his word against hers. A conviction wasn’t guaranteed, especially since his daddy would pull strings. My solution would take longer, but the end result would be the safest option for her.
After I threw Aislynn out, the boys reminded me that she wasn’t used to club life. We dealt with our punishments in-house and in line with our own moral code. In Aislynn’s world, they dealt with the cops, and in my rage, I forgot that, and admittedly, I overreacted.
We’d been seeing each other for a matter of days, and already she had my head spinning. I needed an ol’ lady who kept me on my toes and didn’t let me get away with my shit, though a tiny part of me couldn’t help wishing she was a little more pliable. But then, I couldn’t deny, the way she stood up to me kept me intrigued.
We headed to the bar and took a stool each. It took seconds for one of our club girls, Zara, to mosey on over.
“Hey, guys!” she greeted enthusiastically. “You want coffee?”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” Boot replied. “Make a pot. Prez is runnin’ on fumes, so we’ll need all the caffeine we can get.”
She smiled at me. “You want the strong stuff?”
My stare flicked over her pretty face, and I nodded.
She beamed a smile at Boot before turning for the kitchen.
Intrigued, I observed him duck his head, his cheeks flushing slightly as his eyes tracked her every move.
“What the fuck’s goin’ on with you?” I demanded.
Boot’s stare lowered, and he stared at the floor. “Nothin’. Just think it may be time to get myself a nice girl, is all. Castle’s thinkin’ about goin’ for it with Gracie. Nox will get his head out of his ass and wife Roxie up sooner or later. You’ve got your woman—well, at least when you’re not fuckin’ it up with your hellish temper. Everyone’s startin’ to settle down, and I feel like I’m gettin’ left behind.”
One side of my mouth curved. “And you like Zara?”
His eyes narrowed on me. “What if I do? She’s a nice girl.”
“She’s a great girl. I shouldn’t play favorites, but she’s special, and I don’t mean in the sack; I mean, she’s cute and kind. Thing is, she’s a club whore, so if you want her, you need to make a move if you want your brothers to leave her ass alone.”
He ran a hand over his head, ruffling his dark hair. “Dunno if I’m ready for that.”
I heaved out a hard breath, shaking my head at him. “Boot, either shit, or get off the pot. You can’t get serious with a girl if she’s off fuckin’ the men you work with every night. It’s not exactly conducive to a long-lastin’, healthy relationship. While you keep her a whore you can’t make her a wife. Trust me, brother, I’m starting to understand that club girls and ol’ ladies are two very different things.”
“Mate, a hole’s a hole,” Boot argued.
“Fuck me,” I muttered dryly. “And who said romance was dead?”
“You can talk,” he retorted indignantly. “Callin’ your girlfriend a bitch and gettin’ in her face because she tried to help out a young girl who’d been assaulted doesn’t exactly scream knight in shining leather.”
