Page 12 of Misguided
SIX
Mel
Misty rain falls across the light cast by the flood lamp over the yard as we pull into the Lincoln compound. The weather grew progressively worse as we rode, the clouds thickening until they became a dense blanket across what’s left of the early dawn light.
I shiver as Dog maneuvers the bike into the garage, my sweatshirt soggy and stuck to my body in places. I’d like to think he would have offered me a jacket, but given the fact his skin is covered in goose bumps, his dark T-shirt soaked, I’d say he didn’t even pack one.
Men.
He stops the bike in the wide aisle, allowing me space to get off before he backs it into the lineup. Dagne dismounts ahead of us, King offering her an arm to steady herself. I don’t even get that, just an indifferent stare as I try to slip across the wet seat, the damp flesh of my leg sticking to the surface.
“Thanks for the help,” I sass, promptly shedding the wet sweater.
I pull the fabric over my head and discover Dog clearly checking out my painfully erect nipples through the light tank I have on. Bunching the sweater in my hands over my chest, I scowl at him and head for the common room.
“What else did you think I’d do?” he calls after me.
I stop midstride and spin on my heel to face the fucker. “Show some goddamn respect.”
“I was, by showin’ how much I appreciated what you chose to share with me,” he quips.
Fuck him and his alluring smirk, the way his clearly defined lips pinch in at the corner, somehow drawing attention to his ridiculously sharp jawline.
Pretty boys are always the worst kind of torture—I know, I had Sawyer after all.
Not again. I’m not getting suckered into the challenge of humbling a jackass a second time.
He chuckles as he starts walking the bike backward, King now standing at my side as he frowns over at Dog.
“Ignore him. You know he’s harmless.”
“Still a pain in the ass, though.”
King nods, eyebrows raised. “Yeah. That he is.” He pats me on the arm. “Come on. Come inside and warm up. Sonya can probably find you some dry clothes.”
“Thanks, King.” He always was one of my favorites. Selfless and more concerned with everyone around him, than his own wellbeing. “I’ve missed you guys,” I admit as we cross through to the hub of the clubhouse.
He stalls, retracing his steps ahead of me to loop an arm around my shoulders and give me a quick hug. “We’ve missed you too.”
His lips press to my head in an adoring big brother type of way as Dog enters from the garage. I peer out from King’s embrace, intrigued by the anger in Dog’s stare as he walks by. He holds my gaze as I break from King’s embrace, twisting his head to keep eye contact until he physically can’t anymore.
“So.” I clap my hands together, rubbing the palms furiously. “When will my old man get here? Or do I have to wait until I’m back in Texas to see him?”
King sighs, his eyes sad as he looks me over. “I’ll get one of the prospects to find Sonya and arrange what you need.” He holds his hand out to the side, snapping his fingers. “I need a moment with you first in my office.”
Okay. The reasons he’d have to talk with me alone are few, but all I can do is assume it has something to do with Hooch’s current situation and the fact he just clean blew off my question about Daddy.
“What size are you, sweetheart?” King asks as a shaven-headed prospect appears at his side.
“Um, an eight I think.” I’ve lost weight considering I haven’t touched anything deep fried or overly sugary in so long.
King turns to the young blood, giving him instructions to search for Sonya and have clothes set out in the bathroom upstairs for me. The guy scampers, and King turns his attention back to me. I don’t like what I see.
“What’s going on, King?” I clasp my arms across my chest; the chill suddenly ten times more intense than it was a moment ago.
He beckons for me to follow and leads us into his office. I oblige—after all, I’m a guest in his house—and take a seat in front of his solid desk. A coat is draped over my shoulders, the fluffy lining warm and inviting.
“Thank you.”