The Boy I Grew Up With
Page 7

Brandon perked up. “You closing for me too?”
“No.” I scowled. “I already did my sisterly duty for you this morning, and speaking of…”
I brought Suki up to date on my two ultimatums. We kept a Shit List in the drawer, and as I added their names, she grunted.
Oh yeah. There was one more thing about Suki.
“Suki saw that coming a long time ago.”
She spoke about herself in the third person. Almost all the time.
“Hey.” Brandon frowned at her. “I take offense to that.”
She pointed up at him, her head coming to just above his stomach. “You should. That girl had wacko eyes.” Her fingers made circles in the air beside her head. “Wacko.”
“Oh.” Brandon smiled sweetly down at her. “Like the ones you have right now?”
Suki growled. “Like the ones you about to have.”
This was going nowhere good. “Enough,” I barked out. “If you’re going to fight, do it out of my office.”
Brandon held up a finger. “We all use this office.”
I pointed to the card table set up in the corner and the three folding chairs resting next to it. “That’s your office. Not here, not when there are raised voices.”
“Um…” A new voice—a new soft voice, thank goodness.
I considered sending prayers up when I looked to the now-open door. Recognizing one of my senior servers, I rolled back my chair. “What’s up, Ava?”
She was in her senior year at Roussou, but she had earned her spot as one of my head waitresses. And everyone had a soft spot for her. How could you not? Always kind. Hardworking. A petite girl with wispy blond hair.
She wrung her hands. “We’re out of tomatoes and bacon.”
Suki held her hands up. “Cruz was in charge of inventory this week.”
She still should’ve checked everything, and I didn’t think he actually was in charge, but we had had a rush yesterday. I was surprised there wasn’t more we needed to pick up.
“Suki can do a list, see what else we need to get.” Yep. Third person.
“Thank you,” I told Ava. “I’ll run out to get some quick.”
“I can go.” Brandon raised his hand. “Bar’s not super busy right now.” He grabbed his keys. “How many do we need?” he asked Ava as he left, shutting the door behind him.
Suki had already ducked out, and once that door shut, I heard the sound I loved.
Dishes clanging.
People walking up and down the hallway, going to the bathroom, going to the back room, going outside.
The doors opening and closing.
The bell welcoming new customers through the front, thanking them on their way out.
Conversations. Laughter. A few shouts here and there.
It was the sound of a busy Manny’s.
I had a friend addicted to running, but living here, working here, being here—this was my obsession.
6
Channing
Kansas was playing over Quickie’s sound system when I pulled up, and the music paused as I was getting out of my truck.
The gas clerk’s voice came over the speaker: “Just for you, Channing. Saw you coming in.”
I waved. “Thank you, man.”
The guy gave me a nod through the window and a thumbs-up before putting the music back on.
“You’re a rock star in Fallen Crest too?”
Shit.
I hadn’t noticed them, but looking across the pumps, I now saw Dex Richter and some of his usual guys with him. I blamed the post-pussy bliss of being with Heather for my distraction, because it was blaringly stupid of me not to notice the Harleys.
Stupid and dangerous.
“Richter.” I greeted him exactly as I felt about him—like he was a permanent pinecone up my ass, because he was. He didn’t care for me either.
Maybe it was because he was jealous I was so much prettier than him. By far. Or maybe it was because my crew kept his motorcycle club from dominating Roussou, or maybe—I had no idea. I’d kicked his ass a few times when we were young. It could be that. The prick had a memory that didn’t let go of anything, including grudges.
His club wanted in on Roussou. I was stopping him.
We would war one day.
But he was not someone I wanted to deal with today. I’d just left Heather. We were on good terms, so far.
I had things to do. People to see.
After first tracking down my little sis to make sure she was still living and hadn’t killed anyone or gotten pregnant (not totally joking there), I needed to check in with my cousin. Heather wasn’t the only prestigious business owner in my life. Tuesday Tits, the bar I ran with my cousin, might cater to a rougher crowd—okay, significantly rougher crowd—but it was profitable.
But this guy…this fucker… I had a sinking feeling all those productive plans were about to go up in smoke.
His biting laugh confirmed it as he walked around to my truck, putting a foot on the back end and resting his arms over the corner, his hands dangling. His entire stance was casual, as if we were friends.
We weren’t friends.
“You don’t sound too thrilled to see me. What’s the problem, Monroe? My guys are some of your regular patrons.”
They were, but that was at my bar where there were rules they had to follow. You enter Tuesday Tits, you’re in my world. You play by my rules. No violence. No MC politics.
“I appreciate their business. I do.” I flashed him a grin. “Speaking of Fallen Crest, this isn’t your usual stomping grounds. What are you doing over here?”
Richter and his guys, along with about fifteen others, made up a local chapter of the Red Demons. They were based out of Frisco, a neighboring town thirty miles northwest of Roussou and northeast of Fallen Crest. While they stopped in Roussou regularly, I knew they didn’t mix it with the elite in Fallen Crest.
“You’re not the only one with relations here.”
“Yeah?” I reached for the pump.
“I have a cousin who got married today.” He indicated his guys. “We were just at the service.”
“Really?” I skimmed them over. They wore their usual jeans, boots, and leather cuts. “You guys dressed up, huh?”
Richter narrowed his eyes.
I couldn’t stop myself, though I needed to. I had no backup if something went down, and I doubted the gas clerk could help. I was a good fighter, but there were five of them, and two looked over three hundred pounds. If they got a hit in, it’d stun me. And that was if, a big if, they didn’t just pull out a gun.
“Saw your little sister at a party recently.”
He said that so casually, like we were discussing the weather.
I hadn’t known how much I hated the word sister coming out of his mouth until he said it.
“Really?” I cooled my tone.
He nodded, a grin flaring for a second. “Oh yeah. I was surprised, but she and her guys rolled right in. They partied for a while. She’s tight with that Shaw kid, huh?”
“They’re in the same crew.” Why is this asshole talking about my sister? “What’s the angle here, Richter? What are you doing? You’ve got kid sisters. You want me to start telling you about them?”
There it was.
The smugness faded. His jaw tightened, and he straightened up from my truck.
“I can do that, if that’s the game you’re playing,” I added.
He swallowed, and his pasted-on smile came back. He held his hands up and made a point about stepping back.