Page 29 of Ravage

“Good to see you, too,” I scoffed, grabbing a beer from the cooler.

“You know I’m right.”

“Maybe.” I popped the top and took a long pull. “Would help if I knew what you were talking about.”

“This whole damn shindig.” He shook his head. “Shouldn’t be about me.”

Stone had never been a small man, and getting older hadn’t done anything to soften him. If anything, it had just made him harder. He was in his early fifties and built like a brick shit house. He wore a tight military cut, a thick beard, and a permanent scowl.

He was a force of nature, and just one look would have a lesser man thinking twice about starting trouble. Even now, he was standing there, recovered from two bullet wounds, and still managed to complain about his brothers making a fuss over him. “It was a two-hour ride. That’s it. Nothing worth celebrating.”

“The boys are happy to see you back on your bike,” Ace told him. “This is their way of showing they care.”

“They need better hobbies.”

I laughed, but I got what he was saying. It wasn’t like he was just going to sit around and wait to feel better. He pushed himself because he had a club to run, and that was that. Sensing the need for a change in topic, Knox leaned in and asked, “Any more news about the Vipers?”

Prez’s expression changed. It wasn’t much, but enough for me to notice when he answered, “Yeah.”

Surprised, Ace turned to him and asked, “What’d you hear?”

“Nothing worth getting into tonight,” he clipped. “You boys wanted to celebrate, and by damn, that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“That bad, huh?”

Prez cut his eyes over to Knox and said, “Later.”

One word, and that’s all it took. The conversation was over.

We finished our beers and made our way inside. We each grabbed a cold one, then dispersed within the bar. I’d barely sat down when Knox plopped down next to me with a new bottle of tequila in one hand and two shot glasses in the other. “You look like you could use a shot.”

“You’re just looking for an excuse to open another bottle.”

“Maybe.” He filled the glasses to the brim, then lifted one and said, “To bad decisions.”

“Made plenty of those.”

“What’s a couple more?”

“Only one way to find out.”

I tossed the tequila back, and the burn hit my throat in the best way possible. I set the glass down, and Knox refilled our glasses. I was about to reach for mine when the back door opened, and Emery walked in with Chrissy. And just like that, every thought of a carefree night disappeared.

Emery was wearing a short skirt with a pair of cowboy boots and a fitted top that hugged her curves in a way that had me taking a second look. Fuck me. I shouldn’t have looked the first time, but the second did me in.

Her hair was curled and down around her shoulders, and her makeup made her green eyes seem even greener. They swept across the room and landed right on me. Of course they did.

I took my shot, then reached for the bottle and poured myself another, quickly tossing it back. Knox gave me one of his looks and snickered, “You alright there, brother?”

“I’m fine.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

I knocked another one back, and it did absolutely nothing to settle the ache in my chest. I did my best to play it cool when Emery came up behind us and said, “Hey, Unk. I brought your brownies. They’re in the kitchen.”

“Seriously?”

“You told me to bring them.”