Nix smirked. “Gaggin’ ain’t the only thing I heard comin’ outta your room.”
“After eight months inside, tryin’ to clear the pipes.”
“Or tryin’ to clog those damn pipes with gonorrhea.”
“Wore a wrap.”
Nix lifted one dark eyebrow. “While she was suckin’ you?”
Fuck.He was done with this conversation.“Need a fuckin’ beer.”
“Might need more than a fuckin’ beer!” Nix laughed loudly as Zeke strode away. “Make sure to save enough of that Benjamin to pay for antibiotics.”
Zeke flipped him off over his shoulder.
He had to be getting closer to the stage since he could now hear the band over the crowds mixed in with the obnoxious noise of the carnival rides. Too fucking bad the music was country. He hoped the lineup would at least include some decent rock.
For fuck’s sake, did he miss Dirty Deeds. Back in the day, Nash’s band was one of the best around. They traveled allover. Could’ve even gotten a recording deal. Then he and his pig husband adopted Beck and Bri. So he could help with the kids, Nash had given up being on the road and Dirty Deeds now only played at the DAMC parties.
The twins had a shitload of issues when they were first adopted. Chaos was still a bit fucked in the head, which was why his road name was fitting, but his sister seemed to be a lot better.
She still had her moments, but didn’t they all?
Zeke was far from fucking perfect, unlike his golden boy, baby brother Zane.
The twinkle in his parents’ eyes.
Zeke was more like pepper spray in their eyes.
He passed more food trucks and trailers. More rides and games for the kiddies.
Next to a tent holding a silent auction and a raffle was a live auction with some guy shouting numbers so fast that Zeke couldn’t make out what the fuck the auctioneer was actually saying.
But one thing was for fucking sure: Dakota and Taylor had gone all out on this event. It might be their best fundraiser yet. No wonder the crowds were thick. He had no doubt that their fathers, former Shadows, were lurking in those crowds somewhere keeping an eye on things.
They might be way past their prime, but that whole six-man team was still scary motherfuckers. He couldn’t imagine Vi’s current crew was even half as good.
Vi might not be a member of the Dirty Angels, but since she was born and bred DAMC, she was still considered club property. Her security and black op business certainly helped fatten the club coffers. Of course, it also fattened Vi’s wallet because the jobs her Shadows handled cost their clients a fuckload.
For good reason. They took jobs that were questionable or no one else wanted.
Working his way through the throngs of people, Zeke finally saw the signs pointing to the beer garden.
As he headed that way, he stopped when he saw a ghost.
Or more like the person who ghosted him.
Was that…?
No fuckin’ way.
Was she back?
“Kyra!”
The very familiar blonde continued to head in the opposite direction. She must not have heard him.
He curved his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Kyra!”
