Under Locke (34 page)

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. I
n 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 i
t
. 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
ha
ve 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
ha
ve 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.

Hopefully the bald guy was there. He had to be one of the main guys in the MC.

No sooner had I walked into the smoke-machine infested club with two dozen strobe lights and black lights dazzling the room, did I spot the corner where five very gruff looking men sat like kings.

The bald guy was hanging off the edge of his seat, looking more bored than entranced by the monstrous E-cup breasts onstage. My hands had started shaking at some point, so I clenched them into fists and took a deep breath.

Sonny would do worse than this for me.

Plus, they wouldn't kill me or do something crazy like that in public? Right? I friggin' hoped so.

Those twenty steps around the club to the corner of doom were the longest of my life. At about fifteen out of the twenty, the bald guy—who didn't look like he was actually bald the closer I got—spotted me. He didn't tense up or look alarmed as I sucked in a breath and steeled myself to beg for something. Was that what I was doing? Begging? For my dad?

Apparently, I was, but I liked to think that I was doing it more for Sonny than for our deadbeat father.

The other men had turned to look too, all at least ten years older than me if not twenty. They looked more interested than I'd like. It might have been because I was the only female in the building wearing more than tiny shorts and a top that ended half a dozen inches above my waist.

I was two feet away from the bald guy—not bald, his hair looked like it grew in everywhere but must have been shaved often— when he tilted his chin up at me and my nerves kicked in. When that happened, I turned into an idiot—a blabbering idiot with no social skills.

"Hi," I squeaked out. And then I waved.

Jesus Christ, what was wrong with me?

The bald man, Liam McDonaugh from the intel I'd gathered from my unsuspecting coworkers, raised a single dark eyebrow. "Hey," he replied hesitantly, more than likely believing I was nuts.

If they didn't kill me, I'd kill myself for this stupidity.

One or two of the other men grunted in response, making my nerves worse.

What in the friggin' hell had I been thinking? Seriously? What? That these men would compromise with me? Give my dad an extension for his debt? God, why the hell hadn't I at least told Slim or Blake where I was going?

"Not that I don't mind a pretty face standing in front of me, but you look like you're gonna puke, doll. I don't wanna get thrown up on," the Liam man drawled.

Screw me. Screw me now.

"I won't throw up on you. I swear." I smiled nervously, trying so hard not to think about bursting into frustrated tears.

Liam just looked at me in that same intense way Dex did, stripping me of my dignity and strength slowly.

Shit!

"My dad—," crap! That wasn't the picture I should paint. "Curt Taylor owes your club money and you
went after my brother for it—," I had to suck in a breath to try and steady my speech. It sounded like I was trembling. "Is there any way you can give him an extension? He doesn't even like us
,
" I blurted out.

The bald man, Liam, smiled crookedly. His eyebrows tented up. "
That so
?"

"I haven't seen him in almost ten years," I told him honestly. "I swear he won't give a crap what happens to either one of us."

That smug, crooked smile stayed in place. "I find that hard to believe, doll."

Holy moly. My hands shook though they were still in fists at my sides. "Look, I don't know why he hasn't paid you back but I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." I could feel the tears singing in the corners of my eyes as panic swelled like a tidal wave in my chest. "If I had the money, I'd pay it back so that you wouldn't go after my brother again."

I had to purse my lips together so that I wouldn't start
sniffling
.

Liam's eyes widened. In the dark building, I couldn't exactly see what color they were but I'm sure they were dark on his pale face. In fact, it was a pale, handsome face if you liked that rugged, late-thirties bad-man type.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands dangling between his outstretched legs. Those
murky
eyes roamed over me quickly, once, twice, three times. "You new here?"

I'm sure he already knew t
he answer
but I nodded anyway.

"It's safe to say that you don't know how shit is run then, doll. You didn't know that bitches—excuse me,
ladies
don't come around dipping into their men's business. The last thing your cute ass needs to be doing is coming to my place and asking me for something I have no obligation to give you," Liam said carefully.

This wasn't exactly going the way I wanted it to.

I must have made a face because he held up a finger to interrupt me. "But, you're here and I can tell you're scared out of your mind." This was true. Totally true. Now standing, Liam didn't exactly tower over me like Dex, but he was still at least six feet. His build was broad, more bodybuilder type than lean and
hard-packed
. And his personality? Guh. Made him seem even bigger. It might have been the intelligent, crazy look in his eye that seemed oddly familiar. Hmm.

"I can appreciate the guts it took you to come over here, asking for your bro's sake," he said, coming to stand directly in front of me while I stayed rooted in place mainly from fear. His gaze, which I could now confirm as being brown, bore into mine. "And you're smoking hot. That helps out my temper, too."

There was a frog in my throat. Maybe several because I croaked as he leaned into me. A violent urge to push against his chest was at the forefront of my brain but realistically, there was no way I could make it out of the club in one piece.

"Give me some sugar and I'll let you get out of here without a problem. I might even think about only charging your damn daddy for nine instead of ten more in interest," he breathed.

Oh friggin' hell. Nine thousand? In interest? On top of ten? Crap.

"What do you say?" Liam tucked his chin in, staring down at me.

I froze. "You want sugar?" I had a feeling he wasn't asking for the thing I liked to put in my coffee.

He nodded slowly.

My mouth had to be gaping wide. It had to. "I don't
think so
," I whispered, still not moving.

Play opossum, Ris! Play opossum!

Liam smiled grand. Okay, it was too late to play dead. The movement ma
de
him appear even more good-looking than before. "You do," he chuckled, coming even closer to my face. "Nine instead of ten, doll face."

I don't know why I inhaled, but I did and he smelled like a musky cologne. It was pretty nice but all it succeeded in doing was making me feel a
bit
dizzy. My emotions and fears were all over the place.

"He doesn't give a shit about us." I swallowed, keeping an eye on his ever descending lips.

Holy cow, his mouth was literally a few millimeters from mine.
Don't do something stupid, Iris! Don't do it!

Liam chuckled again, sounding deeper. "Whatever you say," he whispered... right before he kissed me.

~ * ~ *

I wanted to kick my own ass.

Getting behind the wheel of my Focus with my lips still tingling from their visit with Liam's mouth, and what seemed like a ten pound weight settled nicely in my belly, I felt sick. Like I'd done something horribly wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

It also didn't help that I knew I'd been a complete idiot walking into that strip club. Such an idiot—

The wailing ring of my cell phone snapped me out of the mental ass-kicking I was giving myself. Pure, sickening dread lined my belly. Because I knew, I knew
somehow
that I wasn't going to want to answer the call. Don't tell me how I knew, I just did.

And when I picked my phone out of my purse—the one I'd left in the backseat of my car when I'd gone inside—the screen flashed the name of
possibly
the only man I dreaded speaking to occasionally.

Dex.

Shoot me now.

I sucked in a breath and let out the exhale as soon as I hit the button to answer. "Hello?" My voice might have been a little more squeaky than I would
ha
ve liked.

"Where the fuck are you?"

Oh boy.

"Ahh..."

Dex didn't even wait a second to bark out, "Where the
hell
you at, Ritz?"

"I'm driving back to Pins," I croaked, hitting the mute button while I turned the ignition and put the car into reverse so he wouldn't hear anything that would give me away.

"By yourself?" he asked in a slow, careful voice that did nothing to ease my anxiety.

"Yeah." I wasn't going to lie to him about that.