Page 45 of Brooks (Dirty Misfits MC 1)
She held out her arms. “Give me a hug.”
I watched the two of them embrace before his nostrils flared. And when he glared back at me, I knew he smelled it. He smelled me on her, and that wasn’t good, because there were men in this club that took a marriage vow even more seriously than I did. There were many men in the club that believed that once a woman married in, no one fucked with her. Not even if her husband got killed in the line of duty.
I held Archer’s eyes for a while before he relinquished the hug.
“You got any errands to run or anything?” he asked.
Raven shook her head. “No, but you look hungry. I could whip up something for all of us to eat?”
I pointed. “Actually, I have to head out. I’ve got some stuff I need to take care of, but I’ll be back to relieve Archer just after dinner.”
Raven eyed me carefully. “You sure you don’t need any food?”
I nodded. “Positive.”
I walked back down the hallway to put on the rest of my clothes while Archer and Raven talked out in the living room. It killed me that I had to leave her, but there was a hell of a lot at stake and I needed to get a move on it. I bid the two of them farewell one last time before rushing out to my bike, and immediately I made my way back to the clubhouse.
Where I found Porter fixing himself a pitcher of margarita.
“What the fuck?” I asked.
Porter didn’t even bother looking at me. “What?”
I pulled the plug out from the wall. “Are you insane? It’s eleven in the morning. You can’t have a fucking pitcher of tequila first thing in the morning. You look like you just rolled out of bed.”
He scoffed. “Says the guy tossing everyone beers yesterday at 10 A.M.”
He tried to plug the damn thing back in, but I swatted his hand away. He glared at me and went for it one more time, but I pulled the entire blender away from him. He reached for it and I threw up my forearm, blocking him from getting his hands on it.
And before I could blink well enough, he had me on the ground.
“What the fuck?” I growled.
His hand pinned my neck to the floor. “You get the hell out of my way and quit judging me.”
I held my hands up in surrender. “I’m not doing anything now, Porter. You can get up.”
His hand kept squeezing. “You think I have a problem? Yeah?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I think you do when you’re choking out an innocent man on the ground for taking your pitcher of tequila.”
He hissed through his teeth. “There’s lime juice in it, too.”
I gasped for air. “Dude, get the hell off me.”
It was almost like reality flashed across his mind, and the cloudy haze over his gaze cleared. He ripped his hand away and jumped off, then offered me a hand to get up. I took it in kind, feeling him struggling just to pull me up.
He never used to struggle with basic tasks like that.
“Sorry, man,” Porter murmured.
I dusted myself off. “How long have you been off the wagon?”
He shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah well, the future marks around my neck will tell people differently. And I won’t lie to them like some have done for you in the past.”
He shot me a look. “Thanks, brother.”
I nodded. “Anytime.”
“But seriously, you don’t get to jump down my throat for 11 A.M. margaritas when we all sucked down at least two beers before lunchtime alone yesterday.”
I watched him walk back over to the blender and turn it on, and guilt pooled back in my gut. It seemed as if one guilt in my life would replace another, and I felt like shit for enabling a clear issue Porter kept struggling with. My soul broke for him. It took him so fucking long to get sober the last time.
I wanted to know what triggered his trip off the wagon this time.
“You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Nothing to talk about.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “When you figure out differently, you know where to find me.”
He turned off the blender and nodded. “Thanks.”
I squeezed his shoulder. “Anytime. I just don’t want you going back to your old ways of being drunk every night. We need you, dude.”
He took the blender off its base. “I won’t. I have it under control now. At least, more under control than in my past.”
Fuck, I hope so. “You better, because we got a lot of shit to deal with and I’m gonna need you.”
He furrowed his brow. “What?”
I nodded at his drink. “Pour me one and come to my bedroom.”
He grinned. “You say that to all the ladies?”
