Man of the House(143)

I’d been a part of it. Maybe not those early wars, but a lot of the stuff later on. Some guys claimed seniority, but I didn’t give a shit about that. The club was my home, and that was all.

“Morning, boss,” I said to him.

“Morning. Take a seat.”

I pulled out the stool next to him and sat down.

“Coffee?”

“Yeah,” I said.

Larkin nodded at TomTom, the pledge who was working behind the bar that morning. He returned with another mug of hot coffee, which I drank gratefully.

“Bet you’re wondering why I called you in so early,” Larkin said.

“Yeah,” I said, “I am.”

“You have fun last night?”

I shrugged. “Sure. Went to another place with a few boys. Nothing special.”

He nodded thoughtfully and took another bite of food. I watched him chew and swallow, the silence deafening.

“I have a job for you, Clutch,” he said.

“Name it and it’s done.”

He looked at me. “I need you to be Janine’s bodyguard.”

That stopped me in my tracks.

“What?” I asked.

“Janine. My girl. You need to be her bodyguard.”

I screwed up my face. “Why?”

“I have something going down, something big, and it involves her. I can’t say more than that, but she might be in trouble. I need you to make sure she’s safe.”

I nodded slowly, not sure what was happening here. It was very unusual for us to be a bodyguard, especially a high-ranking enforcer like myself. It was even more unusual for Larkin to want one of the boys to be around Janine.

“Okay, boss,” I said. “I can do it.”

He nodded. “Good. She has work today. Get to her apartment and don’t leave her side until I tell you to.”

“Got it.”

He pushed me a slip of paper. “Her address.”

I pocketed it. I went to get up but hesitated. “Why me?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “You’ve been around a long time, right, Clutch?”

“Sure,” I said.

“I feel like I’ve watched you grow up in this club. You’re like family.”

“The club is my family,” I said.

“You’re about her age; you two seem friendly enough. Not too friendly,” he added, giving me a look. “You’re good at what you do. Competent, serious, smart. I trust you.”

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks, prez. I won’t let you down.”

“I know.” He turned back to his food and began to eat again like I wasn’t even there.

I turned and left the club, my head spinning.

Bodyguard to Janine? Acting as a bodyguard wasn’t an easy gig for anyone, but acting as a bodyguard to the princess of the bikers was going to be even worse.

Not to mention I couldn’t keep my fucking eyes off her in the best of circumstances.

My mind flipped back to the night before. I’d kept looking at her, sitting there with that new girl, Sara or something like that. The way she moved, smiled, laughed, it all made my fucking cock hard as hell. I wanted her and was fascinated by her strength. She was a biker chick through and through, down to her core.

But she was off-limits, incredibly off-limits. And now Larkin wanted me to follow her around, protect her, keep her safe, all that shit?

I almost wished he had trusted someone else, but he hadn’t. He trusted me with this, and I wasn’t going to let my club down.

I got on my bike and kicked it into gear, tearing ass out of there and heading toward the address on the piece of paper.

I wasn’t exactly known for keeping my dick in my pants; that was for sure. But for years I had avoided Janine, moved away as soon as I felt her getting too close, stepped back if she was being too nice. I’d never let myself cross that line before, and I wasn’t going to now.

I had to remember that this was just a job, just another job that I had to do for my club, for my family.

I looked at Larkin like a father figure. I wanted to be like him, to be as cold and calculating and as competent as he was. I was good at what I did, and I wanted to prove myself.

I pulled up outside a little apartment building on the outskirts of downtown. I was a little surprised that Janine lived in such a nice little spot, the sort of place college kids liked to live, but this was the place on the paper. I got off my bike, feeling out of fucking place but not really caring either way.

I walked up to the door and buzzed her apartment.

Silence.

“Shit,” I grumbled. “Maybe I missed her.”

I buzzed again and again until finally her voice came over the intercom.

“What the fuck do you want?” she asked, sounding sleepy.

“Janine,” I said, “it’s Clutch. Open up.”