“Whoa,” Brick said, catching my arm before I fell on my ass. “Careful. If you get any new bruises on ya, Linc is gonna beat my ass.”
A couple things about what he said baffled me. Firstly, why would Lincoln be that upset I’d fallen that he’d go after Brick? And secondly… the image made me chuckle to myself. While Lincoln was a trained fighter, besting his opponents in the few fights I’d been dragged to, the sheer size of Brick compared to Lincoln was laughable. Then again, sometimes the big ones weren’t coordinated enough and were too slow.
“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” Brick bumped my shoulder with his before taking a healthy sip of his beer.
“You’d squash Lincoln.” The words left my mouth before I could stop them. I meant to leave them floating around inside my brain, but apparently, I gave them life.
“What?” He tilted his head to the side and stared at me.
“You said that Lincoln would beat your ass if I got any new bruises.” My eyes raked over him. “You’re the biggest man I’ve ever seen, and unless you’re oddly clumsy, you’d squash him.” I hoped my blunt comment didn’t offend him in any way.
“Probably.” He raised his head in faux cockiness, or maybe it was real, and laughed. “But I’ve been in the ring with him a time or two, and the man’s got some skills. He got in a few good shots,” he said, pointing to the side of his face. Brick finished the rest of his beer at the same time Trigger placed a tall glass of yellow liquid in front of me.
“We don’t have much back here. Hope you like this,” he said, wiping down the corner of the bar afterward. I stared at the glass but didn’t reach for it, the small voice in my head roaring to life and shouting, What if he drugged it? I couldn’t help it. I didn’t believe any amount of reassurance from Lincoln or from the women who visited me, or even from these guys, acting as nice as could be, would ever tear away my reservation completely. “Take a sip,” Trigger urged. “Tell me what you think.” He folded his arms over his chest, his mouth curving up into a smile. If I hesitated too long, would I be punished in some way?
“I’ll taste it first to make sure he didn’t make it too strong.” Brick grabbed my drink, moved the straw out of the way, and took a gulp. “That might be a bit too much for her.” He put my drink back in front of me. “What do ya think?”
I wasn’t sure if Brick picked up on the reason for my hesitation, but I was thankful to him for trying to put my mind at ease.
Wrapping my fingers around the cool glass, I brought the straw to my lips and took a tentative sip, the mixture of sweet and tanginess hitting my tongue, then sliding down my throat. After my first swallow, I wanted more, so I took another sip, then another before placing the drink back on the bar.
“That’s really good. What is it?” I wanted to have some more but didn’t want to seem greedy, so I folded my hands in my lap and waited for Trigger to at least answer me before I attempted to devour the rest of it.
“It’s called a screwdriver. Nuthin’ but orange juice and vodka.” He saw me eyeing up the glass. “I’ll make you another when you’re finished.” Trigger winked before walking away, stopping to talk to Ace before disappearing into the kitchen.
Reaching forward, I snatched my drink again, the clink of the ice cubs sloshing some of the contents forward, but luckily not spilling any over the rim. “This is good.”
“Drink up, woman,” Brick chuckled. “He’ll make you as many as you want.” He angled his large body toward me, looking me over but not in a lecherous way. “So, what do you think of Linc? You like him?”
His question took me by surprise. What was the right answer? If I told him that I’d been dreaming about Lincoln every night since he rescued me, would that make me seem more desperate than I was sure they already thought me to be? And if I feigned indifference, would he think me to be unappreciative, passing along his thoughts to Lincoln? Maybe even convincing him I was no longer welcome?
“It’s not a trick question, Maddie.”
“Um…” I parted my lips, but then sucked down a few hefty gulps of the concoction in front of me before answering. “Yeah, I like him. He’s nice and has been so caring. He’s sweet.”
“He’s sweet on you,” he replied, smirking when my eyes widened. “He put this whole club in jeopardy to help you, to save you from them.” He nodded, like he was having an internal conversation. Brick’s demeanor switched from playful to serious in the blink of an eye, but before I could respond—and say what I had no idea—he switched back. “You’re beautiful. Why wouldn’t he be?”
“Beautiful?” The question popped out of my mouth on a reflex of disbelief. I’d been called cute and pretty but never beautiful, and even though Brick had paid me such a high compliment, I didn’t get the feeling he was hitting on me. Although, I wasn’t so good at reading guys, the reminder I had to be rescued from the Reapers compounding that notion.
“Who’s beautiful?” Ace asked, strolling up behind me, then taking the seat to my left, leaving me sandwiched between two of the members of this club. Two men I didn’t know. Two people I oddly wasn’t frightened of.
“I was talkin’ about Maddie,” Brick replied, motioning to Trigger when he came out of the kitchen, pushing his empty beer bottle forward to be replaced.
“You want another?” the old guy asked, to which I nodded emphatically, swallowing the rest of my screwdriver and enjoying
