Jesus Christ.He acted like a kicked puppy.
As Rat walked out, Zeke’s old man walked in.
Oh fuck.
Grabbing his phone, he scrambled to text Kyra to not show up, then remembered she had his number blocked.
Fuck!
He groaned under his breath. Talk about shitty timing.
“What the fuck happened to Rat?” The former DAMC president hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “He left like his asswas on fire.”
“Took his cut and kicked him the fuck out.”
Zak’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
“Caught him doin’ blow on the pool table.” Zeke jerked his chin toward the abandoned cut.
Zak frowned. “He knows the fuckin’ rules.”
No shit.“Whatcha doin’ here?” Zeke asked as his old man approached.
Zak’s step stuttered and his eyebrows dropped low. “Last I checked, I’m a fuckin’ member.” He pointed to the patches on the front of his cut. Of course, the president patch had been removed a few years ago after he stepped down. “What the fuck you doin’ here? Why ain’t you workin’?”
“Same reason you never did.”
Zak’s brow shot the opposite way, causing his eyebrows to be stuck to his hairline. “Helped your mother run the bakery.”
“Never saw you bake a goddamn thing.”
Zak stopped in front of him. “Don’t gotta bake to manage a fuckin’ bakery.”
Zeke let it drop since it wasn’t worth the argument. Growing up, he remembered his father coming and going from Sophie’s Sweet Treats and not doing a damn thing but stuffing cupcakes down his gullet.
And making out with his mother.
Sometimes they still did.
Zeke had no doubt that if dying from a broken heart was real and his mother Sophie went first, Zak would follow the same path as Ace did.
Not that he wished the demise of his parents. He didn’t. He might butt heads with his old man on occasion, but he still wanted them to stick around for a long damn time.
Especially now they had their first grandchild.
Who Zak might meet sooner than either Zeke or Ky expected.
She was not going to be happy. It wasn’t a good idea having her come to the clubhouse. But unless he could get his father out of there soon, it might be too damn late.
He called his father by the man’s nickname, even though it bugged the shit out of him when he did. “What d’ya need, Z?”
Zak ground a hand against the back of his neck. “Apparently a fuckin’ reason to be here.”
“Just figured I’d help you find whatever it is.”
“Then find me a fuckin’ beer.” He continued on to the bar. “Larry workin’ in the kitchen?”
“Yeah.”
