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“You’re killing this club,” Kaash rasped.
Rixon stepped back, his eyes still firmly fixed on Kaash. “You bring this up again, and I’ll have to take action. Am I understood?”
Kaash glared at him as he rubbed the front of his throat. “Understood,” he spat, his voice hoarse—strained from the damage Rixon had done to his vocal cords. He pushed off the wall and stomped back into the clubhouse. Rixon stood there amoment more, ran a hand through his hair, then disappeared through the same door.
Taking my seat once more, I wondered why the hell Kaash was trying to convince Rixon to expand into prostitution. Muse was the strip club the Hunt had bought a month before I’d gone inside. I didn’t know anything beyond that and where it was located.
A scuff of boots on dirt had my shoulders stiffening on instinct. I turned to find Vox leaning against the side of the building, his arms crossed over his chest, his hands covered in the leather gloves he always wore and the skull mask covering the bottom of his face.
“Vox,” I breathed out his name. “Hey, man.” Running a hand through my hair, I asked, “Party getting too much for you?”
He nodded, his gray eyes dropping to Lucifer. Vox crouched beside the mutt, putting himself eye level with the animal. There was a silent communion between them before Vox scratched Lucifer behind his razored ears, the creaking of his leather gloves somewhat comforting.
We were both silent for a long while, each of us stuck in our own heads.
Eventually, Vox asked, “What’s it like being out?” His voice was a dark rasp, like it hadn’t been used in a very long time. The guy didn’t speak a lot in any case, but it sounded like he hadn’t bothered to open his mouth and talk for years.
Unable to look at him—afraid of what he’d see in my eyes—I stared ahead at the covered area that housed some kids play equipment. Rixon wanted to ensure our members who had families felt comfortable bringing their kids around and had the play equipment installed about eight years ago, but it looked as if it had had an update recently.
“I feel like I need to be peeled out of my skin,” I admitted, speaking honestly for the first time. Confiding in Vox was likeconfession. You could tell him anything, and he’d take it to the grave. When he remained quiet, I glanced over at him. “Does that make sense?”
He nodded, still scratching Lucifer behind the ear. “You’ve changed.”
It wasn’t an accusation, more just a statement of fact, and his assessment was fucking right. I’d changed, but it wasn’t because of prison.
“Prison will do that.”
Vox shook his head. “No. Your brother’s death will do that. Have you had a chance to grieve for him yet?”
I brushed off his concern, saying darkly, “I’m fine. I just need to get my revenge.”
“I know.” Vox stood, pulling at his gloves. “And know that I’ll be here to help you, brother.”
With a nod, he wandered back to the clubhouse and disappeared inside. Heaving myself off the seat, I led Lucifer inside the clubhouse and down the hall to my bedroom. The damn mutt jumped up on the bed as soon as I shut and locked the door, and I scowled.
“Off,” I commanded.
With a sullen look, the dog crawled off the mattress, giving me the biggest damn puppy dog eyes. Ignoring the manipulative fuck, I walked into the bathroom and got in the shower. When I walked back into my room, towel slung low on my hips, I eyed the dog—who was still giving me the begging eyes—and pulled the blanket back. Dropping the towel, I got into bed, rolled onto my side, and killed the lights.
Chapter 9
Nick
Someone was thumpingon the door of my room, waking me from what had been a fitful sleep. Jerking upright, I reached for the Glock on my nightstand and barked an irritated, “The fuck?”
“It’s me.” Rixon’s deep voice sounded as tired as I felt. “You got a visitor.”
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I glared at the closed door. “Who the fuck is it?”
“Isla is here to see you.”
Isla? Why was she here? Why now?
“I called her. She asked me to let her know when you got back,” Rixon replied, reading my damned mind.
Looking down at my naked chest, I shifted my legs off the edge of the bed. “Give me five,” I called out, finding the pair of jeans I’d kicked off last night on the bathroom floor. I found a clean shirt, then turned to the nightstand, picking up my Glock and tucking it into the back of my pants. My eyes settled on the two rectangular pieces of metal on a matching chain coiled up beside my phone. I reached out, touching the cold steel briefly. Lucifer whined, and I flashed him a dark look. The mutt held my stare, challenging me from his place at the end of the bed. That’sright. That little shit had managed to crawl onto the foot of the bed during the night and had stayed there.
“Stupid fucking dog,” I said under my breath as I pulled on my boots, then opened the door. Rixon was gone, but I followed the sound of voices coming from down the hall.
