The boys pulled over for a bite to eat about halfway down the road, and Vince was relieved. His leg was aching, and he was afraid that the burn on the bottom of his foot was getting infected. Plus, he was in desperate need of a cigarette. He lit up as soon as he shut down the engine and asked Traunch to bring him a Coke so he could swallow some pain meds. He wouldn’t be able to go on without them.
He checked his phone and saw a missed call, but he didn’t get to look at who it was before Pound walked over to him. “Hey, man, how’s the leg holding up?”
He shrugged. “I’ve had easier rides, but I’m fine.” A gross exaggeration of the word, he knew, but it was as close as he would come to sounding the least bit vulnerable to one of his guys.
“It’s gotta suck. Did you pack a change of dressing for that funky road burn?” He motioned to Vince’s thigh.
He nodded. “Two, just in case.”
“Good.” He stopped to light his own cigarette. “So, what’s she like?”
Vince’s brows knit together in a frown. “What are you talking about?”
“The nurse. Or EMT or whatever the hell she is. What’s she like? I bet she’s a hellion in bed.”
Suddenly offended, Vince turned away. “It’s none of your damn business. That’s what she’s like in bed.” He couldn’t believe Pound would ask something like that.
“Don’t get all defensive on me. We talk about this shit all the time, and now all of a sudden, you have these new morals or a code of ethics that don’t sound like you at all. Since when do you not talk about your conquests?”
“She’s not a fucking conquest!” he snapped, instantly regretting it when Pound’s eyebrows went up three inches.
“Really? That’s not what you said before. What’s going on with you, man? You don’t even know this broad, and you’re acting protective of her like she’s your kid sister. If you like her, just say so.”
“Newsflash, asshole. I don’t sleep with people I don’t at least like. I’m not some horn dog like you who fucks anything with tits. I swear, Dustin puts on another ten pounds and his bitch tits grow, you’ll be panting after him with your tongue hanging out.” He hated this. He couldn’t admit to liking her, not with the tension in the air from when she had shown up at the club compound. “Why are you riding me like this?”
Pound crossed his arms. “I’m not riding you, Larson. I’m trying to figure out why, for the first time in almost 25 years as friends, you feel like you have to lie to me.”
Looking up at Pound incredulously, Vince told him, “You’ve already proven you don’t want to hear anything truthful from me. Every time I tell you something lately, you argue with me like I’m spewing the contents of some Port-a-John. You’re not the same best friend I’ve had for the last 25 years, man. You’re dogging me at every turn, and frankly, I don’t want to hear anything else about my stupid decisions. They’re mine to make, like they always have been. I don’t need anyone to tell me how to live, just like I didn’t need anyone to raise me.”
“This club raised you, Larson. It raised both of us when our parents didn’t give two shits where we were.” The passion in Pound’s voice was tangible. “You owe them, and so do I. Lately, I see you playing fast and loose, and it scares the hell out of me because that’s how people get hurt. That’s how we lose our people. This chick is just the latest thing. You keep saying you’re not spiraling out of control, but since Kristi died, you have yet to prove it.”
Vince spotted several of the guys headed back toward them, including Traunch with his drink. “Look, I don’t want to fight, especially in front of everyone else. We’ve got a job to do. If you really think I’m a loose cannon, we’ll talk after we make this drop off and get home safe.” He tossed his cigarette and swung off the bike, effectively ending the conversation and heading toward Traunch. He needed his pain meds more than ever, his blood pressure high from getting worked up.
“Hey, it’s getting dark. I think we should hurry up and get back on the road,” Dustin called, stuffing a burger in his mouth and swallowing it in two bites.
Vince downed the pills and nodded. “I think it’s a bad idea to stay here long. I’ve seen three cops come by in the last two minutes, and I’ve got an uneasy feeling about it.” Dumping the rest of the drink and stealing a handful of fries from a protesting Dustin, he swung his leg back over the bike, making sure his head was down so no one could see the pain on his face. The sooner they got on the road, the sooner they would reach the motel their new printer had set up for them. He needed to elevate the damn leg for a few hours if he was going to be able to make the ride back home.