I roll my eyes. “Stop exaggerating.” He knows as well as I do that wouldn’t have happened. The Wild Wolves might be dodgy as fuck, but I’ve never heard of them starting a fight with non-bikers. It’s usually some visiting drunk twat that starts it. The rest of us aren’t stupid enough to provoke a tooled-up biker with a blatant disregard for the law.
“You do fancy him, though, right?” It’s more accusation than question.
Regardless, I can’t help but smile, because I really fucking do. I’m not about to admit that though. “You saying you don’t?”
Predictably he scoffs. “No. Bad-boy MC presidents are so not my type.”
“What about vice presidents?”
He can’t school his expression quickly enough, eyes flaring with recognition before he manages a scowl. “Fuck no.”
“Mhmm.” I don’t press, because I know him well enough to accept he’s not going to admit it. Not now at least. But he doesn’t need to, because I’m almost one hundred percent certain that my very straight-laced best friend has the hots for Callum Holt.
“What happened with your dad this time?” Ash asks, voice quiet.
It’s such an abrupt subject change it takes me a moment to catch up. I’d rather talk about our biker crushes than this. I shrug. “Same old shit.”
Ash winces. “Money?”
“Yep. This time he won’t tell me who he owes or how much, so I’m thinking it’s bad.” He’s owed money before, but I’ve never seen him that worked up over it. Thatangry. Angry enough to throw a punch at the wall. Can’t deny it shocked the shit out of me.
My hand shakes as I lift my pint, and Ash notices.
He reaches out and grabs my wrist. “How much are we talking, do you think?”
“I have no fucking clue.” I hesitate, biting at my bottom lip, because that’s not strictly true. I just don’t want to say it out loud.
Ash’s expression softens, but his grip tightens on my wrist. “You can tell me, Morgan. You know I won’t judge.”
“I think it’s a lot this time. He was looking for the deeds to the house when I left. That can’t be good, right?” We own that house outright. Paid for with Mum’s life insurance. If he does anything to jeopardise that, I’ll fucking kill him.
Ash opens his mouth, but no words come out. He tries again, but all he manages is, “Shit.”
Yep, that pretty much covers it.
We stay for a couple more pints, consciously steering the conversation to more mundane things like gossip from work. It’s not until we’re leaving and he pulls me in for a hug that he brings it up again.
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re thinking. Your dad wouldn’t do anything to put your house at risk. But...” He hugs me even tighter. “If anything happens, you always have a place at mine. Always.”
I close my eyes, losing myself in the warmth of his arms for a blissful few seconds more. I’ve known Ash for almost all of my life, and I love him like a brother. “Thank you.”
It’s dropping dark by the time I get home. I’m fully expecting the lights to be on in the house, but not a single bulb seems to be lit. It’s only half-nine on a Tuesday night—even if my dad had gone to bed early, he’d have left a light on for me.
The house is silent when I get inside. No telltale creaks to signal someone being upstairs. I assumed his car was in the garage, but a quick search of the box we keep all the keys in reveals his car keys aren’t there.
I’m worried.
He’s got work in the morning. A six o’clock start that usually has him in bed by ten thirty at the latest. Where the fuck is he?
My stomach sinks as I see the discarded papers on the kitchen table. Did he find what he was looking for? And if he did, what the hell is he planning on doing with them? I’ll be pissedoff if he’s thinking about re-mortgaging the house, but he can’t exactly do that at this time of night.
I try to call him, but there’s no answer. My texts don’t get a response either.
“Jesus, Dad, where are you?” I try his phone once more, but this time it goes straight to voicemail. Well, fuck you too.
Reluctantly, I head upstairs, trying not to let my imagination get the better of me. He’s probably just at the pub like I was. Drowning his fucking sorrows.
Sleep is almost impossible as I lie in bed, ears trained for the sound of him coming home.
