“That part is a little blurry for me too. It was after the strip poker but before the topless karaoke…”
The woman let out a laugh/groan hybrid.
“So… my phone.”
“I lined them up by the door,” I told her.
I’d crashed earlier than the others. I didn’t know if I was getting old or boring (or both) but the liquor had hit me hard, making me too tired to even think about taking a woman up to bed. So I’d gotten extra sleep and woke up to straighten the disaster of the living space before Slash happened by and saw it.
“You need a ride into town? I’m heading to the gym.”
The woman looked relieved.
“That would be great. I came with Madison, but, I, uh, guess she isn’t up yet. I have to get to work.”
“No problem,” Detroit said as I turned to pour some coffee into a to-go cup for her, adding some cream and sugar because who didn’t like coffee with something a little extra in it after a night of drinking, and held it out to her.
“Probably gonna need this,” I said as she reached for it.
“Thank you. This was… a lot different than I expected.”
The town had a little bit of a boom, population-wise. A lot of new women around who hadn’t visited the club before.
This woman worked as a nurse at the prison. Which I knew because when Saint reached for something and his shirt lifted up, she’d squealed and declared that she’d been the one to treat the wound that caused the scar on his back.
“Come back anytime. We’re always up for fun,” I said, toasting her with my coffee cup.
With that, they headed out in Detroit’s family car but it wasn’t long before I heard a rumble moving up toward the clubhouse.
Slash, as expected.
I was pretty sure I was the only one who remembered he wanted to talk to us in the morning about a job. But I didn’t mind being the messenger.
The president walked in, glancing at the purses and shoes lined up by the door, around the room, then at me. “Cleaned up the evidence, huh?” he asked, shooting me a smirk.
“Just don’t look in the freezer.”
“Panties?”
“Bras.”
He nodded, too experienced a leader to be fazed by any kind of absurdity. The club had a collection of abandoned bras and fishbowls of condoms.
“Everyone still out cold?”
“They were up late.”
“Not you?”
To that, I exhaled hard. “Think I’m getting old, man.”
“Yeah, join the club,” he agreed. “I got some shit to do with Nyx today. So I’m gonna let you tell the others about the job.”
“Sounds good.”
“It’s a bit of a haul for this one. Over in Fontana. There’s a club that reached out to place an order.”
“Club? Another MC?”
