The truth was things didn't turn out like the storybooks. Many jerks had confirmed that for her.
She took another sip of wine.
Yeah. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Five
Sitting in his pickup truck a couple houses down from where Hailey lived, Goldie lit a joint and took a long drag. He'd been parked watching her house for the past half hour. It pissed him off to no end that he was doing it, yet he was still there. What he hoped to see was beyond him. I'm nothing but a damn stalker wanting a glimpse of Hailey. This is so fucked.
Ever since the previous night when he'd almost kissed her in the hallway at Chianti's, he'd been obsessing over her. She hadn't made it easy on him when she drove by his shop and parked nearby. He'd thought for sure she was going to change her mind as he watched her sitting in her Buick, but when she'd pulled away, he regretted not going over to her. He wanted just one taste of her lips, then he'd move on and forget about her. He could do that. He'd done it with all the women in his life. Some of the chicks made an impression on him, but not enough for him to stick around too long. Leaving women didn't even make him break out in a sweat, so he had no doubt he could forget Hailey in the sweet embrace of another chick with chestnut brown hair.
Scrubbing a hand down his face, he dragged his fingers to the back of his neck and rubbed it hard. I'm done with this shit. He sat up straight and grabbed the key in the ignition. Just before he turned it, Hailey walked down the porch stairs, beyond sexy in her shorts and halter top. Staring at the way her hips swayed while she walked across the grass, he readjusted his jeans and leaned his head back against the head rest.
Hailey bent over and her shorts rode up a bit, showing the crease right below her butt cheeks. How well I know your ass. Straightening up, Goldie saw a bunch of weeds clutched in her hand. She walked over to the sidewalk and picked up the newspaper, then went back into the house.
He'd sat out in his truck for forty minutes in the hot sun for a five-minute glimpse of her. The brothers would be all over me about this. And they'd be right. I'm acting like a goddamn pussy. This shit stops now. Turning the key in the ignition, the blue pickup growled as Goldie pulled away from the curb, heading back to the clubhouse.
When he walked inside, a blast of cool air hit him. He went straight to the bar where a frothy glass of beer waited for him. Tilting his head back, he guzzled it down.
"Damn hot out there," Army said as he wiped the sweat dripping down his face. The prospect behind the bar placed a mug of beer in front of him.
"Damn straight. What's going on at Lust?"
"Not much. Good crowds on the weekends. Lately we've been getting the suit-and-tie rush around four on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Guess all the suits want to get their stripper fix before they go home to their wives."
"Does Fiona still work there?"
"Yeah. She was asking about you. What happened? You had a major boner for her, but I haven't seen you around for a while."
"I've been busy. Steel had me helping out at Skid Marks for a while, which was a major pain in the ass. I was busting my ass between the bike shop and the tattoo parlor. Glad that shit's done." Goldie picked up the new beer Ruger put in front of him.
"Maybe you can come by this weekend. We got a few new strippers who are real hot. Fiona's working on Saturday."
"Saturday's a bitch at Get Inked. Besides, we can't fuck the help. Steel and Paco remind us of that at least once a month."
"Looking's good too. Fiona has a new number that's driving all the guys crazy. How're the women who come into the shop to get inked? Any hot ones you've hooked up with?"
"I don't really look at them that way. If I did, I'd fuck up their ink."
"Bullshit. You're always checking out women. You're giving me a load of shit, which probably means you've either fucked a customer or are getting ready to do it."
"Neither, dude. I don't like to mix business with pleasure. So, how'd the double date turn out with your squeeze and her roommate? Did the chick go for Chains?"
"Better than I could've imagined. The two women ended up being totally down for a foursome, and we had a shitload of fun. Chains is eager to do a repeat performance. I'm arranging something for next week. You really blew that one. Those women are so fuckin' into the dark shit. Love it."
"Yeah, well, you know I prefer it solo with a chick. Glad it worked out."
"Do we got church?" Eagle asked as he joined the men at the bar.
Goldie glanced at the clock on the back wall. "In about fifteen minutes."
"Enough time for a few beers," Eagle said as he held up three fingers to Ruger, who promptly placed the requested bottles in front of Eagle. He picked one up and drank it in one long swallow. "Nothing better than ice-cold beer on a scorching day."
The brothers chatted for a while, then headed to the meeting room in the back of the clubhouse. The room filled up with more jean-clad members, the scraping of metal and wood against concrete echoing as the brothers sat down at the large table. Steel and Paco were standing in front waiting for everyone to quiet down. A wooden gavel brought the meeting to order.
"We're helping the Fallen Slayers procure arms. They've been getting some shit from a local gang in Silverado that seems better equipped than they are. These punks have been starting all kinds of shit, so Roughneck's asked us to help them out. Told him about Liam and how great he's worked out for the Insurgents and now us on that last deal."
Fallen Slayers were a smaller MC with only ten members. Roughneck was the president and Patriot was the vice president, both good friends with Steel. They'd all known each other even before the clubs were started. Most of the Night Rebels got along with the Fallen Slayers, although the way they treated their club girls didn't sit too well. But the club girls wore the Fallen Slayers' property patch voluntarily, and they chose to go through initiation to become part of the club. Even so, the Night Rebels respected and treated their club women as part of their club, never pushing them to work at Lust or go out and prostitute to make money for the club.
"Are we gonna help them with their punk problem?" Sangre asked.
"Is it an established gang or a wannabe?" Eagle said.
"For now we're just helping with the arms deal. Roughneck will let us know if he needs more help. We'll open it up for discussion if that time comes."
Steel nodded to Paco, who stood up. "The gang is an affiliate to Los Malos in Colorado Springs and Pueblo. Los Malos started as a neighborhood gang, but they've evolved into an organized, dominant, and criminally successful one. This smaller one in Silverado helps Los Malos out in some of the counties with selling drugs and stealing. They have a fuckin' attitude and think they can just set up shop and establish the area as their turf."
"Sounds like what the fuckin' Skull Crushers and Satan's Pistons were trying to do," Goldie said.
"Exactly, except these assholes aren't bikers. They have backup from Los Malos and maybe some fuckers higher up. I spoke to Hawk and he's looking into it, since he's the one who keeps up with that for the Insurgents and their affiliates. He told me the Insurgents are looking real close at Los Malos and their affiliates. They want to nip whatever shit these fuckers are trying to sneak in before it becomes a worse problem. I told them we're ready to jump in and lend a hand if it comes to that. I know the other MCs that we and the Insurgents are on friendly terms with would join forces with us too. But for now, we're gonna help Roughneck get his gun supply way up." Paco crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.
"What do these jerks call themselves?" Muerto asked.
Paco smiled. "Los Malitos."
"Wonder how long it took them to come up with that name." Muerto laughed.
"We don't give a shit how these fuckin' street gangs make their money or what the hell they do as long as they don't do shit in biker territory. Banger is beyond pissed," Steel stated.
"I'm sure he is," Rooster said. He, Tattoo Mike, and Shotgun knew Banger, Hawk, and Throttle well. Being the oldest of the Night Rebels brothers, they went way back with the Insurgents, even before the Night Rebels was formed.
"These punks never fuckin' learn. We oughta annihilate them and be done with it." Diablo slammed his fist on the table.
The members voiced their agreement. Steel looked at Diablo. "I want you to get together with Knuckles and see if he needs any help."
"Already did that. I'm going to Silverado tomorrow to go over some stuff with him." At first, the Fallen Slayers' sergeant-at-arms and Diablo, the sergeant-at-arms for the Night Rebels, didn't get along with each other. But since they'd done a couple of charity poker runs together, they'd become brothers and friends.
"When's the deal going down?" Chains asked.
"Next week," Steel replied.