Enough(87)

He pointed to the wooden bench.

“Fuck yeah. Don’t stop pouring until I can’t remember...my name,” I finished lamely.

I lay back. Jericho stood over me. “Open up.”

Head too full of shit, I opened my mouth and the smooth taste of Johnny flooded it. I gulped as fast as it came, sputtering and coughing once. The liquor stopped and I sucked in a deep breath.

I swallowed mouthfuls of whiskey until the bottle was gone. My stomach rumbled and I sat up, head between my knees, breathing deep. This was the moment where the alcohol stayed or came back up again. I fought down the gorge and commanded my stomach to settle—no way I was going to throw up yet.

Jericho thrust another bottle in my hand. I opened it and drank more. Either I’d forget or I’d die and right now both sounded equally appealing.

The next few days passed in a haze of drinking and everything took on the blurred softness of a long drunk. I brooded and raged, but didn’t lose my shit and piss and moan about Red, only because I passed out before I got there.

I woke up and no whiskey was close to where I’d passed out. I opened one eye and was surprised to see the sun setting out the window of the cabin. I rocked up to my knees from the scruffy carpet. Scrubbing my face, I blocked my eyes when the door opened and Jericho stomped inside.

“We’re going out, get in the damn shower. You stink.”

I stood and wobbled on my feet, still drunk from before I passed out. After showering and changing, I headed outside and eyed the seven bikers. I didn’t remember Rebel or Viper showing up. Shit, I’d lost time.

“Hey, you good?” Jericho smacked my back and I stumbled forward.

“Yeah, fucker.” I rubbed my neck. “What are we doing?”

“Going to get you laid at a new strip club.” Jericho winced. “You still drunk?”

“Mostly. But there’s only one of you, so it’s better than before.”

I jumped in the truck next to Zayn and buckled up. “Where?”

“Melina ten miles away. They have a new place—we plan to bring several girls back with us.”

Some pussy action sounded good to me, I needed to get off the bench and start again. Ride again.

The red flashing lights of Club G almost blinded me. My head started to ache, meaning I needed more whiskey before a hangover kicked in. The bouncer gave us all a second glance before he stepped aside. I headed straight for the bar and ordered two doubles, throwing them both back in seconds.

“Don’t let the manager see you do that, he’ll cut you off.” A violet-haired girl winked at me.

I slipped her a fifty. “Keep the drinks coming and your manager away from me.”

Jericho walked up behind me. “Put it on the card—dancers and booze.”

The bartender scooped the card off the table. “Anything you want, just let me know.” Her eyes settled on me and skimmed down to my dick.

I lifted my chin and stumbled away. Jericho followed, laughing his smug ass off. “Just like riding a chick, one’s good, no matter who’s better.”

I stopped and pushed back memories of riding my chick. No, not mine. For all I knew she was home fucking some other guy. The idea banked a fire of hate and rage.

We sat up front at the table attached to the stage. Several young guys darted looks toward Rebel and Zayn but slinked off. Yeah, having brothers at your back is a good thing.

Music thumped and the lights dimmed. A big-boobed blonde stood at the pole when the lights came up. Dressed in a leather jacket and thigh-high boots, she looked like any biker’s fantasy. I might bring the bartender home with me, but first I was having her.

I drank down my whiskey and reached for Zayn’s beer. He didn’t even bitch as he went for more drinks.

The blonde moved to the beat of the music and she rocked the pole. My mouth was dry and adrenaline pumped through me—I was doing this. I pulled out a twenty and waved it high.

With a sassy twist to her hips, she strutted toward me, unzipping the leather, letting the coat fall to the stage. Nothing covered her hard nipples and huge tits.

“Hey, handsome,” she purred, gyrating lower until she lay on the stage, tits hanging over, almost on my face. “Go ahead, you know you want to.”

I stepped back. “I’ll do that in private.”

She shook them again. “Five more minutes in this show, and then I’m yours, bad boy.” Her finger slid over her lips. “You can follow Misty, behind you, to the room, if you want.”

I threw a twenty to the stage. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed the waitress stood behind me.

“Misty? I need that room.” I swayed but righted myself, stumbling a little as I followed her.