Under Locke(82)

I knew it wasn’t worth the effort worrying about a grown ass man like Dex. I knew it, but still, I’d lost sleep over it. Asshole.



“Skyler bothers the fuck out of me, too.”



I turned around to see Blake standing at the doorway to the room, hands shoved into his pockets. “You know when you meet someone and you’re immediately annoyed?”



He laughed. “It’s her face, and maybe those windshield sized sunglasses she’s always wearing.”



They really did look like tinted windshields, the visual made me grin at Blake as I ignored the fact he'd hinted that she'd been in before. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s probably it.”



Blake's easygoing expression melted into a worried one as he crossed the room toward the vending machine. "I heard about Sonny."



Ugh. I frowned at the reminder.



“You heard anything from him?”



I wished.



“No, but then no one tells me anything either.” I paused for a second to look at my fingernails. "I'm sure he's fine."



Oh boy. How many times had I used and heard someone use the word "fine" to describe how they were doing? I could happily go the rest of my life without hearing that vague term ever again.



Blake sighed. "Sounds like a mess. That crew’s nothing to fool around with though." He raised both his black eyebrows. "You need to be careful until it all gets sorted out."



The urge to laugh was right on my tongue. Sleeping at Dex's alone was definitely being careful. Right.



I flinched a little at the thought. Where the heck had I gotten so negative? It was weird.



He shrugged. “Well, let me know if you hear anything about him. I need to go set up for my next client.”



The bald man I'd seen twice flickered through my brain. Then the memory of being terrified at Dex's house pushed that one aside.



The need to work out the issue going on with my dad seemed too important all of a sudden to leave Sonny to deal with it alone. It wasn't friggin' fair for either one of us. Plus, would they really do something to me? Oh boy, I hoped not. "Wait! Blake!"



He paused at the door, looking over his shoulder. "Yeah?"



I snapped my fingers together to play off the question poised on my tongue. “What's the name of the president of that Reapers club? The bald guy?" I was so full of shit but I knew Blake wouldn't tell me if I made it seem that Dex had hidden something like that from me.



Blake's face scrunched up. "Liam?"



I snapped my fingers like a little liar. "Yeah, I couldn't remember." I smiled at him as he shrugged and made his way toward the front, leaving me in the back to try and figure out a way to get the guy's last name without being conspicuous.



And that would be by asking Slim when Blake was busy. Sometimes a girl's gotta do, what a girl's gotta do. In my case, it was finding a way back to Sonny's.



Chapter Nineteen



Standing outside of the strip club, I knew what I was about to do was monumentally stupid. Astronomically dumb. And if—okay, when—my brother found out, he'd more than likely try to strangle me.



But screw it. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and I was used to dealing with things on my own. If the tables had been turned and I’d been the one who had gotten the shit kicked out of me, every nerve cell in my brain was confident that Sonny would have done something equally as stupid to get me back.



I wasn't about to let him down when he needed me for the first time.



That's exactly what I kept telling myself as I flashed my license at the bouncer standing at the entrance. He looked at me, then my ID, and then back at me before waving me in.



I really was a moron.



After asking Slim in passing what the last name of "that Liam guy" was, I'd then asked him "where do the Reapers hang out again? Dex told me not to drive by there but I can't remember the name." My poor, sweet Slim had answered so nonchalantly, he never could have expected that I was planning on visiting the rival motorcycle club.



Or...maybe he just didn't assume I'd be that dumb. You know, being the daughter of a former member of the Widowmakers, and that specific member happened to owe them a crap-ton of money. And the half-sister of a current member that they'd beat the crap out of. Triple the shit factor, and also the employee of a short-tempered Widow.



Well, I'd had a good run while I had the chance.



Using the excuse that I had a "girl emergency", I'd stormed out of Pins a little after seven. It'd taken me nearly an hour to drive to the strip club the Reapers hung out at in the outskirts of San Antonio. Judging by the five motorcycles I'd seen parked in the lot, I figured at least a few of the members were there.