I feel her approach, then she lowers onto the stool beside me, eyeing me cautiously.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I slowly turn to face her, and she has the decency to wipe the smile from her face.
“Don’t,” I snap, “because right now, I’m struggling to find the words, Hell.”
A flash of anger passes over her face before she pushes to her feet and storms off in the direction of the stairs. I watch her go, then I glance over my shoulder at where Rock and Red are toe-to-toe, screaming at one another. And then I see Clay’s shoulders sag in relief as he embraces Bella.
Gears takes the seat Hell vacated and slides the car keys across to me.
“Thanks, brother,” I mutter.
“Pres?”
I look up, noting how he glances behind us to check no one is listening. “It’s not good,” he mutters.
“What do you mean?”
“They came face-to-face with a Steel Delinquent.”
I stare for a silent moment, his words sinking in. I pick up my glass and knock the whiskey back, wincing as it burns. “Fuck.”
“One of them grabbed Red’s arse, and, well, we all know how that shit goes down with Red.”
I groan, knowing exactly how Red would have reacted to that.
My phone vibrates and I open an incoming text message.
Unknown: You shouldn’t leave them unattended . . . rookie mistake.
Attached to the message is a photo of our women in the booth, relaxed, not even aware they were being watched. I slam my phone back down on the bar, hearing the screen crack under my strength.
“They’re okay, Pres,” he adds, trying to sound reassuring. “Rochelle got them out of there pretty swiftly.”
“Well, good on her,” I say, my words laced with sarcasm. “They’re my responsibility. I should be keeping everyone safe, and she’s making that impossible by pulling shit like this.” I sigh. “I thought this bullshit ended when we were fucking teenagers.”
I run my hand over my face before grabbing my phone and heading towards my office. It looks like I’ll be spending the night there because there’s no way I can go up to Hell without losing my shit completely.
I lie on the couch in my office, looking at the picture they took of my ol’ lady. I’m thankful my phone still works despite the small crack evident in the corner of the screen. I pinch the screen to zoom in. She looks relaxed, the most she has in a long time, but I can’t help but be angry with her.
There’s a gentle knock on my office door, and I swing my legs around to sit up.
“Hell, not now. I need time to cool off,” I shout through the closed door.
There’s another gentle knock, and I throw my phone on the couch and storm to the door, swinging it open. “I said?—”
My words die on my lips as I take in Siren.
“Not now, Siren,” I murmur. I go to close the door, but she presses her hand to it.
“Please Pres.” She sounds worried, so I relent, opening the door wider. “Thanks,” she whispers.
“What is it?” I ask, closing the door behind her.
“I need your help,” she mutters, avoiding my eyes.
“With?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest.
