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Plus . . . if he did know about Missy’s finger, why is he keeping it a secret?
So . . . here I am, standing outside Rummie’s, along with what appears to be every SoCal motorcycle gang in the surrounding four counties.
This should be fun.
I’ll admit, it’s a little embarrassing, pulling to a stop in front of the crowded bar in my little bright yellow bug, especially with the laughs it garners from the . . .cough . . .locals. It’s alotmore embarrassing that I have to hunt him out and ask for help.
Again.
Luckily, Ian let it slip that he, Mason, and Puke were coming here tonight to “unwind”. As soon as I step out of the car, my flight or flight reflexes kick in and I’m ready to sink right into the pavement with the urine from a man peeing on the side of the building, not too far away.
Anywhere has to be better than here.
“Oh, baby,” a woman in tight leather leggings and a tight bustier top coos the moment she sees me. She either looks like she’s auditioning for the remake ofGreasein a few minutes, or like she might put a cigarette out on my face for looking at her the wrong way.
Honestly, both.
“Are you lost?”
I totally should have worn something . . . I don’t know, sexy? My “out of style” denim shorts and bright green T-shirt don’t fit in here. I’m not showing nearly enough skin. Not to mention, thesneakers I’ve had for years that I threw on because I was in a rush to get out the door.
I didn’t even wear makeup and I’m supposed to coax Mason out to come break into my missing sister’s house with me?
Fuck me.
“Need us to call your mama?” another girl, this one snarkier, chimes from her cigarette-smoking perch beside the door.
“No, thank you.” I’m ashamed at how timid and . . .southernmy voice sounds next to their cool California accents. “I’m looking for Mason Carpenter. Have ya’ll seen him?”
God, Hannah, get it together.
“Ya’ll,” snarky girl snickers, mocking me, but the other shoots her a look of reproach.
“Honey, they’re going to eat you alive in there,” first woman says, eyeing me up and down. “Mason’s busy. Why don’t you go on home and wait for him there?”
My stomach slips uncomfortably.Busy with what?“It’s . . . um . . . important.”
I can see at this distance, she’s not much older than me, though probably a hell of a lot more fun. Bet her mother didn’t force her to brush her hair with one hundred strokes every night.
“Freshmeat.” A man throws his arm around my shoulders and I cringe at the scent of his breath. “Want a beer?” he asks, offering me his.
“No,” I wince, unable to force the politeness out of my tone. It refuses to die. “No, thank you.”
I duck down and out from under his arm and first woman eyes the man.
“Oh, leave her alone, Bill. Poor thing’s shaking. She’s scared to death.”
I wouldn’t say that, but then again, there is a slight tremor in my hands that’s not normally there.
Missy, you asshole. You’re lucky you’re my sister.
“Hey, ain’t you the governor’s daughter?” a new man asks, sliding up on the other side of me.
I’m effectively cornered.
I open my mouth to speak, but the words get stuck on my tongue.
“I’m—I’m looking for Mason.”
