Wreck and Massive were both silent, but held Har’s stare.
Har broke it to look at each brother seated at the table. “I won’t put anyone’s life on the line without good reason.” He stared at Massive and Wreck. “The two of you haven’t given straight answers to a single question. You both want the club to move into harder drugs and balk the loudest when someone suggests getting out.”
“You,” Massive declared. “You are the only one who—”
“Wrong,” Roman said from the other side of the table.
Wreck narrowed his eyes at Roman. “Never heard you say shit about us getting out.”
Roman tilted his head a fraction. “No. But you’ve damn sure heard Gamble say something, or Mensa, or Joules especially. It isn’t just our president who wants to put drugs behind us. There are other ways to make money.”
“Smack is damn lucrative when you have the right customers,” Massive muttered.
Block shifted in his seat. “Smack comes with a thousand times more risk, too, Mass. We got the cake for brothers bein’ arrested, arraigned, and all the legal fees that go with that shit? As treasurer, I can tell you we don’t. Lucrative or not, smack doesn’t make up for the headaches and hassles that come with it.”
Silence fell within the room.
“Not to beat a dead horse, brothers, but where does that leave us with the shit that went down today?” Tiny asked.
Har’s lips tipped up a touch before he looked at the huge man. “It leaves us adjourned for now, until I have more information. Also leaves Massive and Wreck a thousand dollars poorer since they spoke out of turn, and neither answered direct questions from me.”
“The fuck?” Wreck shouted.
Cynic moved to Wreck’s side, but before he could put hands on the man, Block asked, “We doublin’ that?”
Har shook his head. “Should, but we’re not.”
He swung the gavel against the table. “We’re adjourned.”
With his seat closest to the doors, Har was the first to stride out to the common room.
He saw a prospect cleaning a table. “Where’s Layla? She here?”
“Yes, sir. Far end of the bar.”
Moving down the bar with a steady stride, he stopped close to Layla’s back.
She sat with a groupie he’d never seen before and two women who hadn’t been around in over six months. Next to one of the women sat Sandy, and then Stephanie. He felt Stephanie’s curious hazel eyes on him, but he couldn’t spare her a glance.
“Layla.”
Slow and meticulous, Layla put her martini glass down before swiveling on the barstool to face him. “Yes, Harm?”
“You’re in my room. Don’t stop to talk to anyone. Nobody. Go. Now.”
Her brows lifted. “Sure.”
Sliding off the stool, she smiled, and to an outsider like Steph, it would appear knowing.
Again, words spilled from his mouth without thought.
“Steph, come with us.”
Chapter 18 Where I Draw the Line
Stephanie
I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT Har was thinking, but he was crazy if he thought I would do anything in his room with him and Layla. Compliments of Turk and Beast, though, I knew better than to argue with him in front of others. Especially these other women.
To say I hadn’t made the best impression on the other women was an understatement.
When I settled at the bar with my whiskey sour, Layla had been holding court with three women who were dressed in Daisy-Dukes and tank tops. Layla wore a skin-tight cobalt t-shirt and a denim skirt. Either she’d had a few or Layla was one of those women who naturally spoke louder than necessary, because from three seats down the bar, I heard her saying, “And I am dying to find out who the new person is tonight. I parked my car not ten minutes ago, and walking by Cynic’s bike, I saw another bike with flames on it. And let me tell you, it is fucking hot. Better than that, it’s also next to Har’s bike, so who knows? Maybe it belongs to a buddy of his.”
I couldn’t help but tilt my head in a conciliatory nod about my bike being hot since she was far from wrong.
She caught it and narrowed her eyes at me. “Who are you? Do you know who the new guy is?”
I grinned. “No, but I know who the bike belongs to, because I’m the owner of the shit-hot bike parked next to Cynic’s.”
Her face fell for a moment, but she covered it by sipping her martini.
Before Sandy could make an introduction, Layla speared me with her eyes. “Look, it’s nice that you have a bike and all, but our men... they don’t like women who are too, shall we say, aggressive. You might want to cut your losses while you can.”
Sandy laughed. “Layla, you should pay attention. But just because this young woman has a bike doesn’t mean she’s aggressive.”
Har walked up to the bar, paying me no mind. He stopped near Layla and I felt my hackles rising.
The way Layla answered him, going out of her way to call him ‘Harm,’ raised a red flag, which was the first reason I didn’t shout when he told her she was in his room. The second reason was the tone of his voice. He may have ordered her to his room, but it wasn’t laced with anything sexual. Still, I despised the idea of her in his room with him.
The catty smile she wore told me she thought she could get to me.
Not hardly.
But the idea that I had to be in that room with them, caught me by surprise.
Now, here I was following Har, until he paused, then slung his arm around my neck. His goatee tickled my ear when he whispered, “How long before your food’s up?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Ten minutes, I think. Why?”
“Can your thing be moved to my room? Or do you have to fight with it again like
