“I knew Puck before prison,” I said.
Cyrus didn’t react, but he was a smart guy. He understood I’d done something criminal to land there, and Puck was someone I’d associated with at the time.
He spread his hands. “Well, sorry, guys. Maybe next?—”
“I can take a walk-in,” Angela called from her station, oblivious to Cyrus’s attempt to send them on their way.
Cyrus glanced at me, a question in his eyes. I shrugged. Riling them up by refusing service wouldn’t help anyone.
One of the bikers—a tall, gangly guy with hawkish features—turned toward Angela. “A tattoo with a gorgeous view? Sign me up.”
Angela smiled, probably used to flirty clients. “Come take a seat, then. I’ll be gentle with you.”
He laughed. “Oh, be as rough as you like. I can take it.”
“That’s what they all say until I get my needle into them.” She winked playfully.
“Puck, you coming?” the second guy called.
“In a minute.” Puck’s eyes lingered on me. “I need to have a chat with my old pal, Knight.”
“Knight is on the clock,” Cyrus said sternly.
I knew he wasn’t really concerned about me slipping out for a chat. He was trying to give me an out. But if I didn’t talk to Puck now, he’d just hang around until closing time.
“It’s okay,” I said. “We’ll make it quick. Right, Puck?”
“Sure,” he said easily. “You won’t even know he’s gone. He’s good at sneaking off. Aren’t you, Knight?”
“Come on,” I said, leading him toward the door.
I stepped out into the heat of hell—complete with my personal demon—and turned to him. “What the fuck do you want?”
“What kind of greeting is that for your long-lost lover?” he asked, lips curling with amusement, but eyes cold. Had he always been this fake?
“Cut the crap. You dumped me for Lana a month into my sentence.”
“I couldn’t exactly request conjugal visits, could I?”
“You cut off all contact.”
He pressed a hand over his heart. “I just couldn’t bear to see you that way.”
I rolled my eyes. “Right. I’m sure.”
“It’s true.” He batted his eyelashes. “You saved me, baby. Come back to the club, and things can be like they were before. Remember how good it was?”
“I remember you stabbed me in the back.”
“I couldn’t do shit to save you from the cops,” he snarled. “I convinced Hector not to have you shanked in jail to make sure you didn’t testify against the Serpents. You should be thanking me.”
I shook my head. Puck always was good at revisionist history. “What do you want from me?”
“What I’ve always wanted. I keep Lana around for appearances, but I’mdyinginside, man. When I get desperate, I sneak off, but it’s risky as fuck.”
“Not my problem.”
“Yeah, well, me seeing you here? That makes it your problem.”
