Reaper's Fall
“Painter, what about you?” Pic asked. That surprised me—I gave my reports and occasionally offered a comment, but meetings like this were usually about the more established guys making decisions.
“The Nighthawks are rotten,” I said slowly. “We can take them out anytime we want, easy. We do it right, we slide into the void and take over their trade, which is good for us. I agree that we have to maintain respect, but a few more weeks won’t make much of a difference. Give Gage time to work.”
“All in favor?” Pic asked. Everyone but Duck grunted an affirmative. He just growled at us, then rose from his chair to lumber off toward the bar.
“He seem grumpier than usual?” Horse asked.
“Been havin’ a rough time,” Pic said, his voice low. “Goin’ to the doctor a lot lately. Somethin’s up, but he won’t tell me what. Stupid fucking stubborn asshole. Painter, you got a minute? Want to talk to you—in the office.”
“Sure,” I said, rising to follow him out into the hall. His office was across the way, and something about getting called into it reminded me of when I’d gotten in trouble at school. There was a principal-ish feel to the place, even though the walls were papered with posters advertising headliners at The Line.
“What’s up?” I asked, settling into the chair in front of his big desk. He sat down in the chair behind it, one of those old-fashioned wooden ones with spindles on the back and rollers on the bottom.
“Just wanted to check in with you,” he said. “Now that we’ve talked things out. You doin’ okay?”
“Fine,” I said. “I mean, Mel was a little weird yesterday when she came to see me, but this has been a lot for her to take in. We’ll figure it out tonight.”
Picnic frowned.
“There’s something going on with that girl,” he admitted. “Jess called Loni last night, made her drive into town. She spent half the night at their place, and she won’t tell me why. She insisted there’s nothing wrong with Jessica, so I asked her about Mel and she got real quiet. Loni doesn’t lie to me—not after all the shit that went down—but sometimes she just won’t say anything. Not sure what’s going on, but you need to figure it out and take care of it. Let me know if you need any help.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said. My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out, seeing a text from Mel.
MELANIE: Just pulled up. You around?
ME: Be right out
“That’s Mel,” I said, feeling a stupid grin cross my face. God, I was turning into a dumbass. “She’s outside.”
Picnic gave a short, snorting laugh.
“Go get your girl,” he said. “Probably time to patch her anyway. That’ll settle her down.”
• • •
Probably makes me sound like a pussy, but it took everything I had not to run to the parking lot. I was eager to get laid, of course, but it was more than that. I wanted to see Mel. Hold her . . . Know that she was still safe and that she still belonged to me.
I managed not to tear off across the gravel like a kid when I saw her, but I walked fast. Fuck, but she was beautiful. She was gorgeous when I’d seen her inside, too, but the lights in there were shit. Made everyone look yellow, even my beautiful girl.
She gave me a soft, hesitant smile, like she wasn’t sure whether I’d be happy to see her or something. Never been happier to see anyone in my life.
“Melanie,” I said, catching her close for one of those deep kisses that felt like it could go on forever. Vaguely I knew that people were watching us, but I didn’t give a shit. I never gave a shit, actually—we liked to live life in the open here at the clubhouse. Mellie was still new, though. Didn’t want to scare her off.
Her hands were around my neck, burrowing into my hair as she climbed up my body. Fuckin’ loved it when she did that, for a variety of reasons—not least of these was I’m a hell of a lot taller than her and we didn’t always fit together quite right. Easier to boost her up than hunch over every time we were together.
The kiss was amazing, but sooner or later we all have to breathe.
“Hey,” she whispered, framing my face with her hands as she searched my eyes for something. I wasn’t sure what, but she looked almost scared. Pic was right—something was off here. “I’m crazy about you, did you know that?”
“Pretty fuckin’ crazy about you,” I murmured, kissing slowly down her neck. She shivered and my dick made a serious attempt to crawl out of my pants.
“Anytime,” she said. “But there’s something we should probably talk about first . . .”
Those weren’t good words. Those were never good words. I pulled back, studying her face.
“What?”
“Is there anywhere we could go that’s private?”
“Sure,” I said, thinking quickly. “We got rooms upstairs, you know. Want to use one?”
“All right,” she said, her smile tight. I let her slide slowly down my body, teasing my cock. Not even that was enough to distract me from the shadow I’d seen in her eyes.
• • •
We caught some shit as I dragged her through the clubhouse. The brothers all knew why I was so hot to get her alone, and for a minute I thought Horse might try to cock-block me, because he’s an asshole like that. Apparently the look on my face was enough to warn him off.
On the third floor was a series of rooms anyone could use. Most of the time they were for overnight guests, but guys crashed out here sometimes if they were between places. Also good for when we wanted privacy with a woman, although half the time nobody bothered. Wasn’t like we had any secrets from each other at this point, and that went for sex as well as everything else.