Page 49 of King
“You will need a card to go with them,” she said, pointing to a display rack of little note cards.
I briefly wondered what the fuck I had done in a previous life to deserve this kind of fresh hell, then snatched a card off the rack and grabbed the pen she handed me. After a minute, I wrote a message, feeling like the world’s biggest pussy, then stuffed it in the little envelope and slapped it on the counter.
“There. Are we done here?”
She handed me back my credit card and smiled. “For today, anyway. Good luck, Mr. Morgan.”
Cowboy gave me shit as we both mounted our bikes, and I took great pleasure in flipping him off as I revved my engine and hauled ass out of the parking lot. I headed to the compound, while Cowboy turned the opposite way toward his house. My stomach was rumbling by the time I pulled to a stop in the crowded parking lot, reminding me that it was lunchtime.
The common room was filled with a half dozen brothers, a few hangarounds, and the club bunnies as I made my way into the kitchen to find something to eat. I fixed myself a sandwich and grabbed a bag of chips from the oversized walk-in pantry, then snagged a bottle of iced tea and headed back into the common room. Spotting Lucky, Viking, Sinner, and Brick starting a poker game, I sat down with them to eat, and watch them play.
Twenty minutes later, I was finished eating, and Viking was down fifteen dollars.
“Have you been takin’ lessons in countin’ cards from Molly?” he grumbled to Lucky, who grinned and scooped up pile of small bills in the middle of the table.
“I can’t help it if Lady Luck is smiling down on me. She’s literally part of my name, man.”
“Lady Luck, my bony ass,” Viking snorted, taking a sip of the beer in front of him.
“Quit bitchin’ and shuffle the damned cards, you old fart. It’s your turn to deal.” Sinner told him, and Viking flipped him off in response. If I had a nickel for every time those two had flipped each other the bird, I’d be a rich man by now. It was actually one of my earliest memories as a little kid – getting scolded by my mom for imitating my dad and the man I then called “Uncle Viking” by flipping off the little shit who had lived across the street from us. He’d gone whining to his mommy, and I’d gotten a smack on the seat of my pants with one of Mom’s house slippers.
I was eventually roped into the game when Brick left to go pick up one of his kids and then spent the next few hours hanging out with my MC brothers and losing sixty dollars to Lucky, who was still on a winning streak.
My phone finally buzzed with a text notification a little after four-thirty, and I smirked as I read her text. I responded but she was clearly retreating. That’s OK. I’d let her…for now.
