Page 47 of Under Kid’s Protection

Her friend sniggered. “Never had a doubt. That’s your style. If your boobs aren’t spilling out all over the place, it’s not a Carrie costume.”

Carrie let her jaw drop and feigned offense before she slapped her friend playfully on the shoulder. “What are you trying to say?”

“That I love you dearly.” Kelsey, continuing to giggle, pulled Carrie in for a hug. “I’m glad you’re getting back to your old self.”

“Me too,” Carrie agreed before returning to her client with hair dye in hand.

Kid would obviously be at the charity party event at the clubhouse—especially because, apparently, he lived there now. Would it be bad form for her to hit on guys while there? Carrie wasn’t up to date on biker etiquette. Would he care?

He did at the bar.

But that was different. The dude had been a stranger. What if she accidentally flirted with one of his club brothers? According to Kelsey, a bunch of guys were coming in from other chapters and out of town. This thing was poised to be a huge blowout. Which meant there would be a ton of men she hadn’t met yet expecting a good time.

Perfect for a woman out on the prowl. Carrie had worn that label before. Could she do it again? Did she want to? Hmm. Perhaps she should switch her costume up. She looked excellent in black, and a sleek bodysuit with cat ears never went out of style. She might even have all the components at home.

But she didn’t like to repeat costumes. She’d been a panther a few years ago. There was no need to return to it already. Besides, this year’s original idea did include a bodysuit, so she would be sexy as hell.

She sniggered to herself while she nodded along to Terri chatting about all the flaws she saw in her son’s new girlfriend. It was an extensive list, so she didn’t really need Carrie’s input on the conversation. Terri was prone to one-sided conversations like that. Which was perfectly fine for Carrie. Her mind was occupied.

For the first time in eight months, she legitimately looked forward to going out in public and meeting new people. Hopefully, she remembered how to flirt. That had to be a skill like riding a bike. While she was out of practice, she was confident she could do it.

Grinning to herself as she folded the foil around the strip of hair she’d just painted for Terri, she imagined a hulky, shirtless biker dressed like the Hulk chatting her up while another, dressed like Spider-Man, came over, offering her a drink.

Biting her lips together so as not to giggle at herself out loud and have Terri thinking she was laughing at her, Carrie shook her head. Yes, that was a ridiculous thought, but it was nice to have them again.

29

Kid

Sitting in church, listening to Kevlar, Torch, and Frog hammer out the final details of the Halloween charity thing, Kid pinched the bridge of his nose. His brain throbbed against his skull. No amount of vodka with cranberry juice could alleviate this headache. That fact didn’t stop him from trying.

Lifting the glass, he took another gulp as his mind wandered to Carrie and the haunted expression on her face when he announced his plans to move into the clubhouse. He’d fulfilled his promise. The longer he stayed with her, the more complicated shit would become. He’d already muddied waters by sticking his dick in her on multiple occasions. No good would come from his continued fraternizing with her.

Besides, the club was on the verge of exploding. That whole, if you build it, they will come concept. Now that they had a base of operations, all the energy needed to be on building their numbers and establishing contacts and business deals. Kid needed a distraction like he needed a hole in the head. Between his club and his studio, there weren’t enough hours in a day for anything more than casual ass.

Carrie wasn’t that.

As though on cue, the door to the back storage room in the Knucklehead opened. Cautiously, brassy-haired Vanessa poked her head in. If there ever was casual ass, it was Vanessa. “Just checking that you boys don’t need a drink or whatever?”

She smiled as her gaze panned the room, lingering on Kid.

“We’re fine,” Kevlar snapped. She flinched and ducked out quickly.

“We can’t keep meeting here,” Torch lamented.

Kid agreed, but unfortunately, their clubhouse renovation was still riddled with contractors who didn’t need to overhear what they said. Not to mention the lack of electricity, air-conditioning, and other such essentials.

Frog nodded. “There will come a point in time, hopefully soon, we will need to discuss sensitive things in the utmost privacy.”

“Speaking of,” Kid said as he placed his cup on the table. “Business may have come knocking at our door.”

Their eyes turned to him.

“As we all know,” Kid began as he leaned over the folding table, resting his elbows on it and interlacing his fingers. “When Koyn was running the Royal Bastards in Oklahoma, he competed with the Irish in gunrunning. In the vacuum of his absence, everyone around here had to rely on them to get what they needed.”

Kevlar relaxed into his chair as he listened. The Royal Bastards were known around the country to be the best connection for illegal firearms. To the best of Kid’s memory, the Irish specialized in exotic orders, but the Bastards got the everyday shit faster than anyone else. Was that the same today? He didn’t have a clue, but what he did know was that in order to have a successful return to Oklahoma, they should lean on what their club did best—firearms.

There was no need to reinvent the wheel. The market was there. Supply connections were made. If they could find a buyer on this end, they would be set.