“Thanks,” he replied, detaching his gaze from my direction and back toward Son. “Feels good.”
“Well, you deserve it, fucker,” Sonny noted.
When had he started speaking so much? I hadn't heard him string together so many words in three days total.
And what were they talking about?
Dex shrugged, glancing back down. His mouth was set in a fine line, something in his expression telling me that there was something he wanted to say but nothing came out. Just like nothing had come out of his mouth the night before after I'd told him he hurt my feelings in the parking lot.
Which was right before I called him a princess.
A-w-k-w-a-r-d.
Finally, he looked over at Sonny instead. “I’ll let you get back to what you two were doin’. See you at the shop later,” he spoke to me, glancing down at my legs one last time before nodding a goodbye at Sonny and making his way back to the building he’d come out from.
The moment he was out of earshot I asked, “What was he celebrating?” I didn’t care, I swear, but I was nosey.
“He just paid off the loan Luther gave him to set up Pins.”
I focused on big, bad Dex paying off the money he’d been loaned to set up his tattoo shop. “Huh.” I’d spent my entire adult life trying to balance just having a lease, medical bills, cell phone, and random things to pay for; I couldn’t imagine the responsibility of having a business to worry about on top of that when I could barely afford my minute sized expenses.
"Is it always that awkward between you two?" my brother asked.
Crap, was it that obvious? "Always." I made a face. “I probably made it worse when I called him a princess last night.”
He busted out a laugh that had me giggling at the absurdity of what I’d done.
“Goddamn, kid.”
“He made me mad and it just...came out.” I didn’t bother telling him Dex had called me a princess first. The phone conversation I’d overheard two days ago was still fresh in my mind. No need to fuel that fire, right?
Sonny nodded, dropping to his butt in front of my car before sliding back underneath it. “You sure you don't want me to have a talk with him?"
The sneaky turd. I didn't even need to think about it. "You already had a talk with him."
Sonny snickered but didn't apologize or make any excuses for the conversation he'd had following the fit he'd thrown in his bedroom.
"I do want to look for another job though if you know anyone else, " I offered him up. "Preferably one with someone who reminds you of unicorns and rainbows."
I heard him laugh from beneath the car. "Kid, I don't think anybody in the club would remind me of unicorns and rainbows," he replied, still laughing.
"Glitter and tutus?"
He snorted. "Hell no." Thinking better of it, he added, "Maybe Trip."
~ * ~ *
I was bored out of my friggin’ mind.
Thirty minutes in, and I was ready to get the heck home.
Sonny had finally told me about the "party"—it really just seemed like an excuse to go to the bar—and on top of that, I’d found out that the guys from the shop were going to be there, I’d been relieved. While hanging out in places where I didn’t know anyone usually freaked me out a bit, I’d mentally prepared myself for the fact that I was practically starting my life over. New city, new job, new home, new friends.
New, new, new, new, new.
I’d decided a few days ago that all this new stuff needed a solid commitment from me if I wanted to make it work long term. My hermit days of working to scrape by needed a positive boost. Plus, Sonny wouldn't let me get away with the same stuff that Lanie had. Like staying in, eating Ramen noodles, and watching PBS on Friday nights because we couldn’t afford cable.
So I’d thrown a tough smile on my face and driven to the bar after work. Pins wasn’t set to close until one but business was slow, and I’d already clocked in over eight hours, Slim had told me to go ahead and go. Was I going to argue with him about staying? No way.
Things all day had been awkward. Dex The Dick had been in a surprisingly good mood with everyone. He wasn’t grumpy or aloof like usual, and I wasn’t sure whether to thank the fact that he paid off his loan or the fact that he’d gotten laid—gag—last night, for it.
The thing that got to me though was that not once had I heard any of the guys complain about his previous shit-titude. Back at my old job, if my boss was having a bad day and was on an ass-ripping mission from hell, we’d all talk about him the moment we had the chance. Or at least I’d roll my eyes.
But did anyone say anything about Dex?
Nope.
I had no one to roll my eyes with. No one who understood my resentment for the jerk who had made me feel like I had no business breathing the same air as him just because he was supposedly having a bad day. I could only come up with the conclusion that while Slim, Blue, and Blake were friendly, they hadn’t completely let me into the ranks yet.
Having someone else call him a dick wasn’t too much to ask for, was it?
When Slim gave me the chance to get out of there so I could avoid being in Dex The Dick’s general vicinity, I took it. I changed as quickly as I could—because you don’t go to a bar owned by bikers wearing business casual.
Now that I was more familiarized with the area, I realized the bar was just two blocks down from Pins and the body shop Sonny worked at. It seemed like the entire city mile was Widowmakers' territory. There were a handful loitering around outside with my brother in their midst.
Old, still smelling strongly of cigarettes, pee, and beer, Mayhem had new upgrades like flat screen televisions mounted on the wall and new pool tables lined up far from the entrance that clashed with the old bar. The lights were dim, the place was as loud and crowded as it'd been two weeks before. And for some strange reason, I didn't feel completely awkward there like I usually did when I'd gone to bars with Lanie.
This in itself said something because in the first five minutes I was inside, someone had broken off a bottle against the edge of the counter and held it up to someone else's throat before two Club members split them up.
Sonny and I walked around the floor. I smiled and waved at some of the people he'd introduced me to the last time. People who knew the complicated web of our lives thanks to an irresponsible former Widow.
And apparently, because I was getting so chummy with strangers who were a little interested to meet a former member's daughter, Sonny thought it'd be fine to leave me.
The horny bastard said he’d be right back, and thirty minutes later, he wasn’t. I’d seen him spying some brunette across the bar before pulling a Las Vegas magic show act on me and disappearing.
What was a girl who didn’t really know anyone supposed to do? Sit her ass at the bar, watch, and wait.
And watch and wait was what I did. About a quarter of the people boozing and being really friggin' loud were dressed like Luther and Trip: jeans, a t-shirt, and a black leather vest with multitudes of patches. And so many tattoos I didn't know where to begin looking. I could still remember the WMC insignia my dad had worn proudly until he'd gotten it covered up one day randomly. I was never sure what had officially cut his affiliations with the Club after nearly a decade of living away from Austin but honestly, I didn’t give a crap.
Not a single one.
The other half of the people milling around Mayhem doing shots, yelling, laughing, and smoking something I had a feeling wasn’t legal in the corner, were still pretty rough looking.
Glancing around, I’d never seen so many tattoos, leather, and facial hair in my life—and that was just the men.