“You sure?”
“Yeah, you sure, doc?” I repeated with a cocky smile.
‘Yes,” he said, but this time his cool, calm demeanor was unnerved.
“No problem, doctor,” she said, and, she walked out. Harrington looked both ways down the hallway before easing the door shut, obviously making sure no one would hear our conversation.
I ripped the cuff from my arm, and stood up, lifting up a lid off of one of the canisters on the counter.
He snatched the lid out of my hand. “What the fuck are you doing here? I told you not to show up during office hours,” he snarled as he slammed the lid back on the canister.
“We just need a few scripts to hold us over. Our shipment from Mexico got stalled.” Fucking Feds confiscated the entire fucking shipment, and nailed our supplier. Prez was in the middle of securing a new one, but, until then, we needed something to keep money coming in and to pacify our clientele. It was fucking piss compared to what we were used to, but it was better than nothing, and the good ole’ doctor here owed us.
“That’s not my fucking problem,” he seethed through clenched teeth.
“Oh, but it is,” I reminded him, and dragged my hand along the surface of the counter. “We did a favor for you, so now you do a favor for us. You know how this works, Doc.”
“I already have.” He stood tall in his faked confidence, and I found it amusing. He was about as scary as a bunny in a dark alley. I bet he didn’t even know how to throw a punch or shoot a gun. Probably coddled his whole life by his family and society. He really had no idea the shit that he stepped in when he got involved with the Righteous Outlaws of Black Hills.
I shrugged, and then plopped my ass back onto the table. “True.” I adjusted my cut, so the top of my Glock was visible. A silent reminder that the Righteous Outlaws always got what they wanted. His confidence waned as his eyes took in the custom skull grips. “But, too bad for you, you made a deal with the devil.”
Anger clouded his face. “Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?”
“Take it as you see fit.”
Harrington came at me, finger pointing at my face. “Don’t you come into my office and threaten me!”
I pushed his hand away as if it were a mere gnat. He’s lucky I was in a good mood today, or I would break every fucking finger on that goddamned hand. Instead, I let it go. “See, I don’t look at it as a threat. Just a friendly reminder between allies.”
“Don’t!” he yelled then caught himself. He stepped back, tugging at the collar of his shirt before smoothing a hand down the front buttons and straightening his white coat. He leaned into me, the veins in his neck straining and working overtime. “I’m not your ally and I never will be.” He grabbed the pad out of his coat pocket and thrust it at me. “Now, get the fuck out and don’t come back.”
I took the prescription pad, and put it in my jeans pocket. “Pleasure doing business with you, doc.” I patted his shoulder, and his entire body went stiff.
His eyes landed on my hand, and his lip curled back. “I said get out.”
I held my hands up in front of me, and backed toward the door. I covered my Glock before heading out of the exam room, and back into the waiting room. The woman with the kid was still there, and I gave her a suggestive wink as I passed.
She hugged her kid closer to her, placing her hand on his head and quickly turning her back to me. She’d probably be boring as hell in bed anyway. Girls like her were too vanilla for my blood. I liked them dirty and willing.
Outside, I got on my bike and checked my phone. One missed call. I checked my voicemail and listened as Phil, one of the original club members, gave an address of a drop off. When the fuck did I become the bitch?
I didn’t do drop offs. It was beneath me. I wasn’t a fucking prospect, trying to gain my place. I did that shit years ago. I was in charge of collecting past due payments on loans, and making sure the local businesses paid their dues. It was a respectable job within the club and I loved watching people shit themselves when I walked in their door.
Phil was out of his goddamned mind if he thought I was going to start doing bitch work. He could have Stumpy or Byrd take care of this stupid shit. I had better things to be doing tonight, like sinking my cock into some club whore.
I dialed Phil back, and he answered on the second ring.
“Since when am I some low man on the totem pole? I haven’t done deals in eight goddamned years, and I ain’t about to start back up again either.”
“Too fucking bad for you. They found a body just off the highway, and the cops have planted their asses outside our doors while they investigate. If I send one of the prospects out, he’ll get tailed, and we’ll all be screwed. It’s just one drop off. He was buying a good portion of our shit from Mexico so, in the meantime, while me and Phil work that shit out we need to hold him over. ”
“Whose body was it?”
“According to Stanson, it’s a Montamos. Two bullet wounds to the chest.”
Our alliance with Stanson, the local sheriff, gave us information before the public received it. He had been working with the Righteous Outlaws since the nineties when Phil saved his ass from getting killed by a Montamos. As long as we continued to protect our town from them, he turned the other cheek.
“Talk to Stanson, and tell his men to stand down.”
“This is the third body in two weeks. The Feds are now involved.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. “Well, shit. I guess I have no choice then. What’s the address?”
“It’s at a bar called The Watering Hole. You’ll be meeting up with a guy named Ricky. He’s good for whatever you were able to get from the doctor.”
“All I got was his pad.”
“Then, you better start writing prescriptions, and stopping at every drug store along the way.”
“This is bullshit,” I stated. “You better have some Jack and a naked bitch waiting for me when I get back.”
“You can count on it. And Cash?”
“Yeah, Phil?”
“Thanks.”
“Anything for the club,” I said, then slipped my phone into my pocket and took off to the beginning of a very long day.
27
Cash
I tilted the bottle to my lips, and let the cold liquid pour down. It was the never ending fucking day, and I just wanted to get back to my part of town, but I needed a beer. Having my drop off at a bar was pretty damn convenient, and I was taking advantage of it.
Shitty pop music pumped out overhead, and I tried not to take my gun out and shoot the damn speakers. I had bullets tear through my skin, and it was less painless than this.
Just had to finish my beer, hop on my bike and head home. I took another swig when a loud girly squeal managed to outdo the music.
I threw a glance over my shoulder, almost positive someone was being murdered or tortured.
A brunette in a yellow dress, brighter than the damn sun, threw her arms up in the air. “I love this song!” she screeched as she jumped up and down, her tits bouncing like two perfect balls. She grabbed the blonde next to hers, hand, and pulled her to the middle of the bar. Her hips swayed as she walked, and my eyes lingered on her tan bare legs and the way her ass moved beneath the layer of yellow.
“We need shots!” she declared, seconds later, taking hold of her friend and dragging her toward me. She squeezed her ass between an empty barstool and me, propping her elbow on the bar as she waved a credit card at the bartender.
She tossed her hair over her shoulder, giving me a nice whiff, and damn if she wasn’t the best smelling thing I’d ever encountered.
“Only one,” her friend said. “I have a spin class first thing in the morning and you my friend are way over your limit.”
She inhaled a deep breath, and blew out, puffing her cheeks. “Pfft…limit slimet,” she slurred, waving her hands. “I’m perfectly fine, just a little buzzed. Besides, I’m home and we’re supposed to be celebrating!”
The bartender walked over, and nodded his head to Little Miss Sunshine. “What can I get you?”
“Two red headed sluts!” she declared, and I scoffed. She turned her attention to me, and arched an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
“That’s not a shot,” I said into my bottle.
“Then, what is it?’ she demanded, her speech slurring, making it clear this probably wasn’t her first shot on her celebration night.
“Fruit juice,” I mumbled.
“Aubree, don’t talk to him,” her friend said, glaring at me, and I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips.
She held her finger up to her friend, and moved closer to me, completely engulfing me in her sweet smell. “Then, what would you suggest?” she asked.
“You wouldn’t be able to handle it,” I replied. I turned on the bar stool until my eyes met her pretty brown ones. They were red as shit, and I wondered how many drinks she already had in her system. My gaze moved across her face. She was like a fucking doll with perfect skin, except for a tiny scar just above her lip.
“Try me,” she stated dryly as her friend yanked on her arm, but she ignored her.
“Jack Daniels.”
“Done,” she said, throwing her arm up. “Make mine a Jack Daniel’s instead,” she declared proudly, and I just laughed. No one who drank Jack referred to it as Jack Daniel’s.
She looked and sounded like an upper-classer. She was completely out of her league here, yet she didn’t seem to notice or care.
“Take it easy there, sunshine. Don’t want to get too drunk someone takes advantage of you.” I winked and her friend, undoubtedly fed up with the whole situation, let out an exaggerated sigh of disgust.
The bartender returned, sliding the two shots across the bar. She handed one to her friend, and they clinked glasses before downing it. Her face was fucking epic as the Jack burned its way down her throat. She closed her eyes, shook her head, and jumped up and down as she fanned her face.
Most guys would have asked her if she was okay, or offer her their beer to chase it, but I was no fucking gentleman. Besides, I did it for my own amusement. Watching her freak out over the burn was entertainment gold.
Another girl joined them and, seconds later, a guy. I turned my attention back to my beer, and let the shitty ass music drown the crowd out.
“Watch this!” Little Miss Sunshine’s voice once again rose above the music. She stuck her tongue out, revealing a cherry stem, and then shut her pretty little mouth. A few seconds later, she parted her lips and retrieved the stem that was now tied in a knot. “A little trick I learned in college,” she declared.
Unable to control myself, I slowly clapped, swiveling in my stool until I faced her. Her friends stepped back, but she stood her ground, as I continued the mocking applause. “Your daddy must be so proud,” I scoffed.
“My daddy is very proud of me,” she declared, straightening, clearly not getting my point.
“So, what else can you do with that tongue?” I raised my brow, mocking her, wanting to see her squirm. Wanting to see her shift uncomfortably from foot to foot while dirty thoughts assault her mind.
“Aubree, let’s go,” her other friend said, wrapping her hand around Sunshine’s upper arm, and urging her to move.
She yanked herself away, and moved toward me, unsteady on her feet. To be honest, I was shocked as shit she wasn’t head first in a toilet, puking her guts up. She was a feisty little thing even if she was out of her league. She spun back to her friend, her hand out like she was revealing a fucking prize.
“What, am I supposed to be scared of him because he has tattoos? Or because he wears a leather vest?” Her hand reached out to my cut, but I caught her wrist before she went an inch farther.
She gasped at my sudden touch. Her cheeks flushed, and she innocently blinked up at me. Her skin was soft as shit, and touching her sent a jolt to my cock, causing it to harden and throb beneath my jeans.
Ignoring my sudden hard on, I leaned down and looked straight into her doe eyes. “Don’t ever touch a man’s cut without his permission,” I coldly stated, shoving her hand away from me.
“Aubree, now!” her girlfriend demanded and, this time, didn’t give her a chance to pull away. She locked her hand around Sunshine’s shoulders, and guided her away from me. It was probably for the best. That girl’s mouth was making me want to shove my cock in it to shut her the fuck up and relieve the pressure in my balls that she caused. She was loud and opinionated, though, I wondered if it was the booze more than it was her.
It was blatantly obvious this chick came from money. From her sweet little yellow dress that hit just at her knee to the pearls in each ear, there was no denying she was a little miss prim and proper society girl. I just couldn’t figure out what the fuck her and her friends were doing here in this shithole. She stumbled into her friend’s arms, and hugged her tight. “I love you, Am-maya,” she garbled, as the girl carried her away from the bar and propped her up against a wall. Sunshine didn’t stay in one place long. She pushed off the wall, declaring her love for a new song and began dancing.
I was going to leave right after my beer, but I found myself taking smaller sips from the bottle as my eyes continued to stare across the small space at her.
Girls never captured my attention. They were time killers, something to get me off, and that was it, but for some reason this annoying girl with boozetude had me a bit intrigued in addition to my raging hard on.
I wanted to drag her into the bathroom, and show her what it was like to be with a real man, because I doubted she’d ever been with one. I’d make her come so hard so quick she wouldn’t know what hit her. I wanted to hear her cry my name out as I rammed my cock deep into her tight little pussy. And, I bet it was tight, too, only fucking because she thought that’s what her boyfriend wanted, but having no goddamned clue how it felt to have her mind blown.
She looked pure and, while I hated vanilla, I had the urge to make her as dirty as I could. Fuck, I needed to get the hell out of here. It was a long fucking day, and Phil promised me Jack and a naked chick and he always followed through.
I threw a few bucks onto the bar, and downed the rest of my beer. I turned toward the door and my damn eyes immediately landed on Sunshine, having what looked like a heated conversation with some guy. As I got closer, there was a sudden break in the music, and I could hear them.
“Leave me alone,” she slurred, but the guy didn’t back down. If anything, it only fueled him to move closer.
“Not until you answer me, dammit.”
“I already did. Now, please get out of my way.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
Too fucking tired to care, I ignored whatever stupid argument they were having and headed straight to the door. The bitch wasn’t my problem, and it was best to keep it that way. My hand landed on the door, ready to push out into the night, when instinct took over.
“Leave. Me. Alone!” She shoved at his chest, and he pushed forward, grabbing her upper shoulder hard.
She let out an unsettling squeal, and, as one who always acts and then thinks, I raced forward, cracking the guy good with one punch to the face.
28
Aubree
William went down like a sack of potatoes, as the biker from the bar flexed his fingers and then straightened his leather vest. My legs gave out, and I collapsed beside William, shaking him and silently praying he was okay.
I might not have wanted to marry him, but that didn’t mean I wanted to see him get knocked unconscious either.
“Oh my God!” Amaya screamed, as she and Vicky came out of the bathroom and noticed us down on the floor.
I ignored them, and tapped William’s face. “William!” I exclaimed, shaking his shoulder. When he didn’t respond, I turned my attention to the biker. “Why did you do that?”
He shrugged. “You seemed like you needed help. You could say thank you.”
“Thank you? You just punched
my friend in the face! Why the hell would I thank you?”
I caught his eyes and, this time, I wasn’t blinded by the alcohol. The fog in my head had cleared, and I could see him clearly. His eyes were a beautiful shade of green that reminded of the evergreens in Aspen. How they stood out so vibrantly against the rest of the gorgeous background. His dirty blonde hair was long, and so unlike the clean cut boys I grew up with.
The tattoos on his neck should have scared me, but they only intrigued me. Made me want to know what each one meant, and if it hurt when he got them. I always secretly wanted a tattoo, but Father would kill me. Twenty-two years old, and I still cared about what my father would say and think. But this guy… he looked like the only person he cared about was himself, and not in the conceited way like William, but in a way that brought chills to my spine.
William stirred beneath me, so I brought my gaze away from the leather clad man and down to my ex-boyfriend. “William, are you okay?” I asked, cradling his face.
He blinked a few times, and, then when he was fully aware of where he was, he pushed up. “Where is he?” he asked, with fear streaking across his newly tanned skin from a recent trip to St. Barts.
I turned to the biker, but he was gone. For some reason, I didn’t want him to be. So, despite the voice in my head telling me to stay safely inside with William, I pushed into the night. I was sick of being a good girl. Sick of doing everything everyone expected me to do. If I wanted to chat up a biker in a bar, then dammit that was exactly what I was going to do and neither Amaya, Vicky, William nor even my father was going to stop me.
I came home after college graduation to figure my life out. And I wasn’t going to do that by falling into the same routine I’d been following since I was a kid. I was sick of lunch at the club, and weekly charity events about causes I didn’t even care about. I hated it. I spent my time trying to pacify William and my parents by letting them think that William and I had a future. All I had to do was say yes to his proposal, but then what? My college education became a waste of my time as I got molded into a society woman that William carried around on his arm like some damn trophy. No. I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t going to become my mother. I couldn’t live a life that was carved out for me by everyone but me. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I damn well knew what I didn’t want.
Beast (A Righteous Outlaws Novel #4) (The Righteous Outlaws) Page 21
