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“Need a fourth?” Cue asked, and Oak slapped his hand on the table, laughing.
“Brother, you’ve got to stop denying this shit with her.”
With who?
Cue scowled but didn’t say a word. Cross tapped his knuckles on the table, gaining all their attention.
“Fourth would be good. After you come back from the seven-day run, take a day or two and then we’ll head up there.”
Cross stood, with his woman following his lead. He wrapped his arm over Addison’s shoulder, and they headed toward the back hallway.
“Cue, man.” Oak chuckled. “Don’t let this be another wasted opportunity. Just fuck her and get her out of your system. And your mind.”
“Shut the fuck up, Oak,” Cue snapped.
Oak rested his elbows on the table, shaking his head. “What the fuck is stopping you, man?”
Jekyll had been out of the loop with a lot since coming home from prison. He was filled in quickly about club business, and at this point it was as if he hadn’t been gone for two years. However, the personal lives of brothers were taking a bit longer.
He turned to Cue. “Who does he want you to fuck?”
Cue kept his glare on Oak, not answering, but Oak wasted no time filling him in.
“A club whore at Satan’s. This fucking gorgeous redhead, stacked body, and she is on Cue every single time we’re there. And I’m not talking about a little flirting, she eye-fucks him from across the room.” He waved his hand over his face. “Blushes for this motherfucker. And he won’t do a damn thing about it.”
“I’m not fucking interested in a Satan’s club whore.” Cue’s tone was laced in anger.
“Bullshit. I’ve seen the way you look at her. You’re interested.” Oak sighed resting back in his chair. “If it were me, and she was looking at me like that, I’d have her bent over the table screaming my name in ten seconds flat.”
Jekyll shifted his gaze to Cue, his nostrils flared and his jaw squared, but he remained silent. It seemed Oak’s commentary had triggered him, making his disinterested comment less believable.
Cue scoffed. “You miss this, Jek? Deplorable fucking assholes.”
Jekyll smirked when Oak rolled his eyes, not taking an ounce of offense from the insult. He’d had Hyde with him in prison, but he’d missed the whole family. All the members of the club. The fighting, the banter, and most importantly, the brotherhood.
Yeah, I missed this.
Chapter Three
Imogene knew if she wanted to meet people, and she did, she would have to step out of her comfort zone. But meeting a complete stranger at a club went beyond the usual stretch. She kept reminding herself that while she didn’t know Lou, Angie and Ricky did, and they’d vouched for him as a good guy. Imogene was ignoring the fact that she didn’t know the couple well and who they deemed decent. But she showed up, and so far Lou was nice. Kind of.
He’d located her at the back of the line, introduced himself, and for the last fifteen minutes focused on his phone rather than speaking with her. It gave her plenty of time to people watch. I’m definitely underdressed. Most of the women wore form fitting flashy dresses, their hair perfectly styled, and makeup on point. Meanwhile, Imogene was in jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved black shirt. But to her credit, it curved around her body, accentuating her assets, and the neckline was low, showing off some cleavage. Not as much as most of the women in line. I’m pretty sure I saw nipple on the girl in front of me.
She looked down at her clothes. Maybe she should’ve worn a dress? She wasn’t sure. It had been a while since she’d gone to any type of bar or club. And certainly none as high-end as this one. Imogene hadn’t even thought to ask Angie about a dress code.
She tapped Lou on the arm. It took him a few seconds to tear his eyes away from his phone.
Imogene pointed to herself. “Is it okay what I’m wearing?”
Lou glanced down her body and shrugged. “Yeah, they’ll probably let you in.”
Probably? Oh great! She was standing in line with a fifty-fifty chance of gaining entrance to the club. They weren’t the best odds.
“It should only be another twenty minutes.”
Twenty more minutes?
Imogene sighed. Did people really do this every weekend? Stand around for over thirty minutes, hoping to get into a nightclub? Maybe I’m not cut out for this.
