Chapter 15

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

SPENCER

I have my charged laptop in one hand, my phone in the other, and a little bag of snacks to share with Ophelia. I’m sure she’ll get tired of me before the day is over, but I’m her buddy until Evan picks me back up.

He pulls the pickup into the spot in front of the motel. I see Ophelia sitting behind the counter. She lifts her head and her eyes point straight toward me. I can read the confusion that’s clearly written on her face. She won’t ask me about it until after Evan leaves, though.

She’s going to want all of the dirty details. Ophelia sees and knows all in this town. I tug the handle of the door as I look over to Evan. His eyes are on me, focused on me. He smiles, his gaze searching mine.

“Be good today, beautiful.”

Biting my bottom lip, I try to hide my smile but can’t. “I’ll be a good girl for you, Evan,” I whisper. His eyes darken, his nostrils flare, and I know he understands exactly what I’m saying. “Don’t be later than you have to be.”

“I absolutely will not fucking be late,” he grinds out.

I climb down from the pickup to walk toward the door but stop short. Turning around, I give him a wave. He lifts his hand, giving me a two-finger peace sign and a smile. Hot. Sexy as hell, really.

After slipping into the office, I sit on the stool that’s directly across from Ophelia. She takes out two decks of cards and tosses me one. I watch as she pulls her cards out before she begins to shuffle.

“Double solitaire,” she states.

Double solitaire it is.

And we set up our game in silence. I wait for her to start peppering me with questions, but she doesn’t, at least not immediately.

“So, you checked out,” she hums, placing an ace of diamonds in the center.

I quickly put up my two of diamonds, then my three before she can get hers out. “Evan asked me to move in with him while I’m here and my brother is away.”

“Do you know where Humble’s going to be?” she asks.

I don’t want to answer the question, but at the same time, I know she’s not asking me to be rude. She’s asking me out of curiosity and concern. Ophelia has known me and Humble our whole lives. She’s been a constant at this motel and is more like a mother figure than I ever had in my own home.

“Texarkana, three years,” I rasp.

Admitting it, where my brother will be, what he’ll be doing, it makes me sick to my stomach. Not because I think he’s a bad person in any way. But because I don’t want him there. I don’t want him to have any of the experiences that come with being there. Humble has always been my protector, and I know there is nobody who can protect him.

“Long time, but definitely could be worse. Look on the bright side. You’re able to be here, close, for him.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod even though I don’t feel like I’m doing anything special by being here. In fact, I feel guilty. I’m selfish. Sure, I’m here, but at the same time, it’s not a hardship to be with Evan.

I’m not sacrificing anything. Unless multiple orgasms a day with the man of my dreams is a sacrifice. I don’t think it’s classified as that, though. I don’t feel like I’m sacrificing myself at all.

This is the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. But I know that this is the most miserable Humble has been, and a pang of guilt slides through me at the thought.

“How about we take a break and go get some cupcakes?” Ophelia asks suddenly.

Lifting my hand to my cheek, I realize that I’m crying. Damn. I hate that. Wiping the tears away, I clear my throat and shift in my seat before I speak.

“You can’t leave the front desk unmanned. I’m okay. I promise.”

It is, without a doubt, a lie. I am not okay, not when it comes to my brother. I’m honestly not sure if I’ll ever be okay again. I haven’t seen him in far too long. I refused to come and visit him here because I was selfish and didn’t want to run into Brew.

In fact, selfishness seems to be a recurring theme when it comes to me. That thought slams into me. I’m selfish. I stayed away from Humble for my own reasons. I was a shit sister for no reason other than coming here made me feel some kind of way, and I didn’t want to face it.

“Ophelia,” I whisper.

She hums as she goes through the cards in her hand to check if she has any moves. “I’m a selfish asshole,” I say.

She slams her cards down. I lift my head, and my body jumps as my eyes find hers. “Shut your mouth, Spencer Maddison,” she snaps. “You are anything but. You’ve lived a life full to the brim with trauma, and you did what you needed to so you could protect yourself. That is not selfishness. That, dear, is self-preservation.”

Blinking, I clear my throat and slowly place my cards down as well. “There is a thin line between self-preservation and selfishness, Ophelia, and I have a feeling I lean toward self-centeredness.”

“Get your bags. This is too heavy for desserts. We’re going to Sal’s.”

Without another word, she stands, her purse in her hand, and marches toward the door. “What about the front desk?” I ask.

She turns her head, looks over her shoulder at me, and smirks. “You know as well as I do that nobody is checking in anytime soon. Now, come on.”

Without another word, she walks out of the door and heads straight for her old tank of a car. I quickly hurry behind her but hear her on the phone telling her husband to come down to the motel and man the front desk because she’s got an errand to run.

My lips curve up into a smile. She wasn’t going to leave her baby motel unattended, and that fact makes me smile. A few moments later, her car lurches forward, and we barrel straight for the strip club slash gambling house slash bar known as Sal’s Bar.

Ophelia parks right in front of the door, and I look at the bar entrance. All seems as if it’s in place, but I frown when my gaze travels to the back. There is new construction in the back of the bar.

Turning to Ophelia, I open my mouth to ask her, but it’s as if she can anticipate my question because she answers me almost immediately.

“The club has invested in Sal’s. They’re expanding.”

“The club?” I ask, even though I’m certain I know exactly what club she’s talking about.

Ophelia smiles. “The MC, hon. Now, let’s get a drink.”

She pushes open the door, unfolds from the car, and stands, brushing her palms down the front of her pants. I grab my laptop bag and do the same, minus the palms down my jeans thing since I’m wearing shorts, and that would be weird.

Together, we walk into Sal’s Bar, a place that I never thought I would step foot inside of in my entire life. It’s a strip club, gambling house, and bar. It’s the most popular place within at least a fifty-mile radius.

My brother would probably die on the spot if he knew I was in here. That thought makes me smile. Then I see Kyle standing behind the bar. She lifts her hand and waves toward us, then hurries over, wrapping her arms around me in an embrace.

A few moments later, we’re seated, lunch has been ordered, and both Ophelia and I have a sparkling drink in front of us. Ophelia knew what I needed. When we’re halfway through our drinks, our food arrives, and almost like a switch has been flipped, I’m no longer in a sad mood.

Food, friends, and booze have instantly lifted my spirits, although I think it’s mostly the food and friends more than anything. Halfway through the meal, we’re joined by both Shawn and Ryan as well.

My happiness instantly— doubled .

brEW

“The old man is dead. Loner is dead. What the fuck do we have to worry about?” Fate asks.

He usually doesn’t say much, so I’m a bit surprised by his words. But he’s not wrong. No matter Loner’s warnings, that whole fucking organization is dead and gone. We also haven’t been able to find any links to any larger clubs anywhere else that are affiliated with them, either.

“I don’t know, but I have a feeling,” Atomic states.

“What do we do about a feeling?” I ask.

I’m not trying to be a dick. My brother’s feelings and his gut intuition are typically spot on, but I can’t see the point in being cautious about this. They’re gone. Another enemy bites the dust. What’s the point of walking on eggshells? We have bigger fish to fry, so to speak.

“No fucking clue,” Atomic states. At least he doesn’t have a clue, either. We all stare at one another, unsure of what to say. “Nothing to do,” Atomic continues. “Except keep our ears to the ground. Now, let’s go over collections, warehouse shipments, and keg deliveries. What changes, what stays the same?” he asks

“We could go back to the original route now that the Southern Mafia contract is null and void. That seems to be safer than the one we’ve been taking,” I suggest.

Atomic nods his head. “All in favor?” he asks.

The whole room calls out Aye in unison. Aye . And that is that. We are back to our regular schedule, which everyone is happy about, except maybe me because that means I have to redo the entire fucking schedule.

Shit could be worse, but how fucking annoying. As the room empties, the men filtering out, Atomic doesn’t go anywhere. Instead, he sinks down in his chair. I’ve got my iPad in front of me. Opening the app I use to organize everything, I begin to start working in silence.

“Evan,” he grunts.

I’m surprised he’s using my real name. I lift my head, my eyes find his, and I tilt my head to the side as I watch him. “Grover,” I murmur.

“What are your thoughts on the Southern Mafia?”

I’m surprised he’s asking my opinion. We are brothers by blood and also by choice. However, we don’t have many deep conversations with one another. He knows he can come to me the same way that I know I can go to him for anything—ever.

“Your feelings are valid. I don’t think it’s done. I just don’t know where to go with it.”

He dips his chin in a single nod. “I’m going to have protection on the old ladies twenty-four seven. That includes Spencer at the cabin.”

“But?” I ask, feeling there is one coming.

“I want you to pack a bag. We’re taking King with us to visit Nash. He knows more, and I want to hear from him. Plus, I want to see the progress with his club.”

Sliding my tongue along my bottom lip, I clear my throat. Honestly, I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t want to leave Spencer, not that I am necessarily worried about her. She’s safe here, especially under the protection of the club.

She’s got her work, and she’s got Ophelia. But I know she’s got a lot coming up real fast with her brother being transferred to Texarkana. I want to be here for that. But at the same time, what the fuck am I going to do about it? To a degree, it is what it fucking is. A prison visit.

“Let’s do this,” I state.

Even if I want to be here, even if I want to go to bed and wake up beside Spencer, this is more important. This is safety. This could be life or death, and we need answers. Nash is going to be the one with those answers.

“Leave in two hours. Go say your goodbyes,” he murmurs just as his phone starts buzzing on the table.

He frowns, then picks up his device and slides his thumb across the screen before he speaks. “Atomic,” he grunts as his greeting, sounding rough as fuck. He’s quiet, his eyes widening before they flick to meet mine. His lips slowly curve up into a smile. “With Ophelia?”

Fuck.

This has Spencer written all over it. I cannot imagine Ophelia getting her into trouble, but then again, I haven’t spent much time with her in recent years. There is a long pause where I listen intently before Atomic chuckles. “We’ll be there in a few.”

He ends the call, still laughing as he shakes his head in what I can only assume is disbelief. Then he lifts his gaze to meet mine. His lips are still curved upward in amusement. He speaks, unable to hide the laughter from his voice.

“That was Dennis down at Sal’s Bar. He’s got all the old ladies down there, and they’re drinking and carrying on.”

My eyes widen, and I flick my gaze down to my watch and snort. “It’s two in the afternoon,” I needlessly point out.

“Apparently, they talked Kyle into calling down Bren and a few of the other girls. They’re giving pole lessons. He thought we’d want a heads-up.”

“Are you shitting me?” I snap.

He bursts out laughing, throwing his hands in the air, his palms facing me in surrender. “Brew, it’s two in the afternoon. There aren’t any customers there. Just the girls, Sal and Dennis, and that man only has eyes for his own woman.”

He’s right. But that doesn’t mean I want my woman on a pole… ever. I stand up, take my iPad, and walk out of the conference room. He is close behind me as we make our way toward our bikes.

I don’t need to be in the pickup today. My luggage has been moved, and my woman is going to ride on the back of my bike before I take her home and spank her ass while I’m fucking her for pole dancing.

Holy fucking shit.