I touch a hand to my stomach and think about Triple M. I've heard Oren talking about them before. Bank robbers.
I move my hand up my belly and rest it on my chest. My heart is pumping fast, too fast maybe. As I let my thoughts wander, it starts to speed up. Not just bank robbers. Women with patches, with responsibilities, with bikes. With balls.
My soft smile turns into a grin. A big one. Spreading across my face like a sunburn.
Angelina gives me another look, like she has no idea who I am in that moment. By the time a prospect arrives with my plate, the look is gone and I'm back to blending in with the background. Where I belong. Where I'll always belong.
Beck
Chapter 2
Well, shoot.
I run my fingers through my hair and give the little blonde at the bar one, last grin. But she ain't buyin' my shit. Doesn't happen often, but occasionally the ladies get a whiff of my special Beck bullshit and there they go a runnin'.
“No, no, thank you. I'm fine,” she says, grabbing her purse and rising to her feet. She tries to smile at me, but I can tell from the look in her eyes that she knows I'm trouble. “I don't need another drink.” She gives me a look that says she ain't a fan of either my cut or my ink, maybe both. “Have a nice day.” I take a sip of my beer and keep my eyes on her ass as she scurries the fuck out of the bar like she's on fire.
“Aw, baby. I could've set you aflame for real. It woulda been like fireworks in July.” I finish my drink and slide it across the counter. Two seats down, Melissa Diamond is staring at me like I'm a crazy motherfucker. And I am. Honest to God, I really, truly am.
“Boo hoo,” she murmurs, pouting her lips and curling her fingers around her glass. “She was real cute. A genuine Southern belle, like our Little Miss Amy Cross.” Melissa bites off her words and sucks the red straw into her mouth. I give her a look that says I'm doin' my best to find our entertainment for the night, but in this town, it hasn't been easy. These beach babes are smarter than I give 'em credit for.
“Hey, baby. I'm doin' all the heavy lifting over here.” I move over to her and push some hair back from her face. We have a weird relationship, the ex Mrs. Diamond and me. A friendship that nobody else understands. If she wasn't still in love with the late Mr. Diamond, we might've had a chance. But I think Melissa will always care for that scum bag sack o' shit. See, that's the thing about the L-word. You can't control it, can't decide when it bites you in the ass. I've managed to escape it so far, and here's to hopin'. Austin's been walking around with this goofy as shit grin on his damn face, and Gaine … shoot. Fucker went about wooing his woman all the wrong way, but now? He's got that same stupid ass expression. Like they both have been shot in the foot, but are hopped up on morphine. They're both nursin' bleeding wounds they don't even know they have. How stupid is that?
“Well, try harder,” Melissa soothes, spinning around on the stool with her drink. It's somethin' fancy, somethin' blue. I lean over and grab a sip through her straw.
“That's just plain fucking nasty,” I tell her, touching her chin and taking a step back, letting my eyes roam around the semi-darkness of the bar. It's only been three days since we smashed the shit of out Bested by Crows. I'm no fool; shit could go wrong at any minute. I let go of Melissa and run my hands along the denim of my jeans to take note of the weapons there. A small hammer and two knives. I don't carry a whole lot 'cause shit, let's be honest: Beck Evans ain't a bitch. I can kill a man with my bare hands. If you know what you're doing, it isn't all that difficult either. “Why don't you have a beer like a normal person?”
“Why don't you spend less time flapping your lips and more time flirting?” Melissa says, finishing her drink and setting it on the bar behind her. “Preferably with girls that won't flip out when you suggest a threesome to them.” I laugh and rub the stubble on my chin. Damn. The last girl we picked up together, Crystal, she was crazier than a sprayed roach. But hot.
And now she's probably six feet under and rotting.
I blink my eyes, real slow like, just to make sure nobody knows what I'm thinking about. Especially Gaine and Mireya. Last thing I'd need is to let those two assholes know how worried I really am. Far as they know, I'm a big, stupid motherfucker with loose lips and even looser morals. And yeah, I might be big, and I'm sure as shit stupid, but I know what's what. Our existence as an MC is up in the air right now. It shouldn't be, but it is.
Crazy ass Kent. We had a good thing going here. Motorcycles, madness, money. Triple M. Why'd you have to go and screw this crap up?
I glance back at Melissa. Her eyes are all faraway and cloudy again. I hate that look. Tells me she's reminiscing again. I reach out and clamp her shoulder firmly, drawing her back to the here and now. I am straight up proud of this woman. I think Gaine thinks we're in love, but that isn't it at all. I mean, I love the lady, but I'm pretty damn sure I'm not in love with her. I sure as shit ain't walking around with a goofy ass grin on my face. I'm just proud of her for doing what she did before, for taking her vengeance on those flaccid dick holes in Bested by Crows. Granted, it isn't entirely their fault that Kent did what he did, went rogue and all. But if Melissa hadn't been there, Gaine might not have made it out alive.