Fuck.
He turned and his gaze sliced over everyone in the large common area.
Yep, she was fucking gone and everyone else stared at him, either with amusement, pity, or complete confusion.
He set his jaw.
A second later, Zane went shoulder to shoulder with him, also facing away from the rest of the clubhouse occupants to say quietly, “She left, brother.”
Zeke unlocked his jaws enough to say, “Good.”
“Your face says otherwise,” he whispered. “Might wanna get that under control, brother.”
Wheels came out of nowhere and bumped shoulders with Zeke, saying loud enough for everyone else to hear, “Bitches,amiright?” Of course, he was quoting shit Zeke had said too often in the past, especially when he couldn’t understand women.
Which, basically, was all the fucking time.
Maybe his cousin was only trying to help Zeke save face with the nosy-as-fuck onlookers, but that was the last thing he needed to hear. It also wasn’t going to help him with Ky.
“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” he growled.
As he strode through the clubhouse toward the back door, he recognized Wheels’s chuckle.
Fuck him.
Fuck her.
Fuck everyone.
Chapter Twenty
His sled rumbledbetween his thighs as Zeke pulled to a stop in front of Kyra’s place.
After shutting it down, he dragged a hand through his hair, only to discover all the fucking knots he’d have to deal with later since he didn’t take the time to cover his head with a skull cap like he normally did.
He hadn’t wanted to waste any time catching up to her. But what he discovered rushing after her had been the actual waste: her Kia wasn’t parked in the driveway.
“For fuck’s sake!”
He pulled his cell phone from the inside pocket of his cut, stabbed at her contact info, then put the phone to his ear.
It rang.
Rang again.
Then rang once more before sending him to voicemail.
Of fucking course it did.
He left a short and to the point message. “Where the fuck are you?” He stabbed the screen, slipped it back inside his cut, and restarted his custom Low Rider.
The only consistent girl in his life has always been the one he currently straddled.
No goddamn bitching, just purring.
No drama, just a smooth fucking ride.
If Kyra wasn’t home, then…
