It was hard.
Loving him made me want to tell him to stay safe, but I guess that was always what loving someone did. We were both better off together.
Will smiled at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Fucking sexy. “We don’t hide our club patch. Maybe that’s why you haven’t been voted a full member yet, prospect.”
“Damned right!” King pulled open the front door. The Kings of Men patch was large on the back of his leather cut. The skull with the crown on top made him unmistakable to friends, enemies, and everyone in between. He missed the hurt look Dallas sent his way.
Loud classic country music washed over us, and I sighed. I’d had enough of this crap tonight.
“Besides, everyone in here knows my name!” King smirked.
“It’s a regular Cheers,” Dallas snarked, face impassive.
King was laughing as we followed him inside.
Will went ahead of me, even though I was itching to keep him out of the inevitable scuffle. Ever since we’d cooked up this idea, I’d been fighting off waves of something I refused to call fear. Yeah, a couple of shithead cops had gotten the best of me recently, but it wasn’t like we hadn’t won in the end. I’d be motherfucked if I was going to be afraid of cops. I took a long, steady breath.
“This is my kinda place.” King grinned and rubbed his hands together, taking in the lay of the land.
The dimly lit bar wasn’t a dump, but the one in the clubhouse was fancier. The exposed brick walls were nice-ish, and maybe they would’ve classed up the joint, but the floors were rough wood that probably got oiled now and then to keep away the dust. I relaxed a smidge when we weren’t instantly looking down the muzzle of about thirty handguns.
“What the hell is this?” Detective O’Neill, someone we all knew and hated, spun on his stool at the scuffed wooden bar and crossed his arms over his rumpled gray suit. He was worse for wear. His stubble was more gray than anything else these days and it was halfway to a beard, as if he hadn’t bothered to keep up with it. There was a large stain on the left knee of his suit pants that might or might not be blood.
King hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. “It’s a free country, last I checked.”
An old codger behind the bar snorted. He had white hair and was rail thin, but his shoulders were square. There was no mistaking that he’d spent a lifetime at attention. He crossed his arms and scowled, almost pouting in our direction. “I don’t serve criminals.”
King glanced around. “But you got a bar full of ’em.”
There was some laughter and a few boos as we made our way to four open stools at the bar.
“Kid, I told you years ago, them bikes would get you in trouble!”
“Sergeant Balinski! Damn, I thought you were dead!” King walked over to an old-timer with his hand out and the man shook with him while wearing a wide smile that wavered and wouldn’t stay in place.
“Get this kid a drink, Tubbs.” Balinski flashed a grin with more wrinkles than a shirt lost under a bed.
“Yeah, there must be some way we can get a drink.” King smirked at the bartender.
Unease prickled down my spine. We were a spectacle for now, which everyone loved, but that could change fast. We were balanced on a knife edge, and depending on which way things fell, this could get ugly.
Tubbs grabbed an empty glass and pointed it at King. “You drink tonight’s special and you can all stay. I’ll even give it to you on the house.”
The hoots and clapping that broke out around the room had me groaning. Shit, what was happening?
“Don’t,” Dallas murmured. “Just don’t.”
O’Neill looked smug, so whatever was about to happen wouldn’t be good.
“Bring it,” King said, resting his hands on the bar and shaking out his shoulders.
Tubbs winked at Balinski as he grabbed the bar mat from the server’s side and held it over the glass. The liquid that drained out had me holding back a gag. He did that with three more mats, but King didn’t flinch, only stared the man dead in the eye.
“Those cleaned daily?” King asked as the glass full of murky brown booze sludge was set in front of him with gusto.
“Nope.” Tubbs grinned, flashing crooked teeth.
“Do it!” someone at a table behind us yelled.
