He stared at me, then he pulled a packet of cigarettes from the inside of his kutte, shook one out, flipped his zippo, and lit one of them.
Then he took a pull from his cigarette and shared, “Ease their suffering.”
I stared at him and sighed.
I didn’t know if I could do that.
Just then, Wolf’s face appeared behind Nuke.
I lifted a brow at him.
The fucker was smirking.
And I knew that in that moment, that he was glad he had been allowed to grow his hair out to suit the special missions he took, but that was neither here nor there, because he ran his hand through his hair just then, as he asked, “Yo, VP?”
I smirked, “Yeah?”
“Got a woman at the bar, thinking she needs someone to talk to. Merlin sent me.” He shared, also he shared a smirk of his own on his face.
“Why you coming to me for?” I asked him as I glanced at the expense sheet for the strip club, hoping that now that I had gotten confirmation on my sister, that I could focus on work.
He sighed, and I looked up to see him running his hand through his shoulder-length, dirty blonde hair yet again, which he started to let down when he was behind the bar.
“Because, VP, ain’t seen a woman look that sad in… well… in I don’t know how long.”
Sighing, I laid the papers on my desk I was looking over, pulled off my glasses, laid them down on the papers, then with a nod I stood.
Wolf left.
Nuke clapped me on the back as he followed me into the main part of the clubhouse.
It was halfway packed, given the time of day it was, and seeing as we opened the clubhouse to the public one day a week, I knew we would be slammed in about half an hour or less.
But that wasn’t the only thing that my mind was on.
No... it was on the creature that had stolen my train of thought, who was sitting at the bar.
Sitting at the bar with a pale pink dress on.
And not the kind of dress one would see at a strip club.
No... the kind of dress one would see at prom, or a wedding, or hell, I don’t know, some kind of special event.
Definitely not at a bar.
Definitely not at a bar that belonged to an MC.
Definitely not at a bar that belonged to an MC that was a one-percenter motorcycle club.
Fuck.
Me.
***
And when she obviously felt something in the air shift, she tilted her head to the side... no fucking way.
It washer.
