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“You have three seconds.”
“Let’s go,” she growls, turning without giving me a choice.
Shooting one more look at the men I just tossed to the ground, I scowl and follow Addison outside. The moment the fresh air hits my face, I realize I’ve had far more to drink than I realized. It’s the only thing that is keeping me together right now. I have never felt so fucking empty. I miss my club, my kids, my woman, but I’m too fucking proud to admit it to anyone.
“What the hell are you doing, Spike?” Addison snaps, spinning on me with her arms crossing over her chest.
She’s a firecracker when she’s mad, but she doesn’t scare me. Not even in the slightest.
“Whatever you’re here for,” I snap, “I don’t fuckin’ care.”
“Well, the good news is, I’m not leaving until you talk to me, and you know how annoying I can be. I will follow you around, and nothing you say will change my mind. So, you either talk to me and I’ll leave, or we can be buddies for the next few days. Either way, I’m good with it.”
“Where are my kids?”
She raises her brows. “First of all, you don’t get to ask that considering you haven’t bothered to come and see if they’re okay. So, you just need to know they’re safe, and so is Ciara, in case you were wondering. Not like she has the cops after her for a murder investigation or anything ...”
I growl, low in my chest.
“Hit a nerve? Good, I’m only just beginning. Let’s go.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere with you,” I bark as she begins walking away.
She looks over her shoulder. “Oh, but you are, because you know I mean what I say. Now move it, we have a lot of talking to do.”
With a frustrated grunt, I follow her.
She doesn’t go far, just a few blocks down to another bar. This one a little less rough than the one I just came from. She walks in and goes right to the bar, ordering some shots before turning to me and nodding at the vacant table outside.
“I’m already fuckin’ drunk,” I grunt.
“What?” she taunts. “Can’t handle it?”
I narrow my eyes and rumble deep in my throat before snatching a shot and shooting it down before we even sit at the table.
“How did you find me?” I mutter, sitting down and crossing my arms, the alcohol swimming around in my brain.
“There’s only one trashy bar in this town, and I know you love to hang around with trash, it was a wild guess but a good one.”
My jaw tightens.
“Now,” she goes on, taking a shot, “where should we start?”
“We’re not startin’ anywhere because I have nothin’ to say.”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay, I’ll start guessing until you finally crack.”
This pain in my ass will not stop until I talk to her, but that doesn’t stop me from clenching my jaw and keeping my mouth shut.
“You’re feeling like you’re not masculine now you don’t run a club so you thought you’d take over?”
I glare at her.
“No? You’re having erectile disfunction issues and you’re too afraid to talk to anyone so you thought this might make you feel like more of a man?”
“Back off,” I snap.
“I’m going to keep going.” She shrugs casually. “You are having some kind of midlife crisis and don’t know who you are?”
