Page 35 of Smokey's Distraction
“Why are you still parked in front of the house?” Ashley asked.
Smokey chuckled. “I was checking something in the car.”
“It doesn’t look that way.”
“That’s what it is. I was just ready to head out.”
A long pause passed between them before Ashley spoke, “I hope we can go over the marketing campaign tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I’ll let you know in the morning.”
“Goodnight.”
“Yeah.” He hung up the phone, then switched on the engine. After slowly pulling away from the curb, he made his way to the clubhouse.
When Smokey arrived at the club, Hawk was leaning against the brick wall, smoking a joint.
“Hey,” Smokey said, bumping fists with the vice president.
“Hey.”
“Klutch called me—sorry about this shit my brother caused.”
“Yeah, I was ready to bash his face in.” Hawk inhaled deeply, then released a stream of smoke from his lips. “Your brother’s not welcome here. Make sure his ass doesn’t come back.”
Smokey nodded.
“He’s not a fuckin’ member, so he shouldn’t have been here tonight. I know you didn’t tell him to come, but he’s your family, so it’s on you to control him.”
“I know—I got this.”
“Make sure that you do.” Hawk stubbed out the joint on the ground.
Smokey walked inside the club and went straight to his room. Anger sparked inside him, and he had to take several deep breaths to calm down before confronting his brother.
When he opened the door, the room was dark, so he switched on the light. Ryan lay on his back in the bed, his mouth open, snoring loudly. Smokey kicked off his boots then went over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of dark gray pajama pants and a black T-shirt.
After washing up, he switched off the overhead light and shuffled over to the bed. A beam of moonlight cut across Ryan’s face, and the scent of bourbon reeked from him. Smokey stared, watching his brother’s chest rise and fall, and the anger from moments before slowly melted away. Images of his younger brother cowering in the corner of the living room, lips drained of blood, his face pale like a white stone, and his brimming wide eyes fixed on their father—who stalked toward the boy—spewing obscenities as he unbuckled his belt.
Then, the hiss of leather cut through the air as he yelled,“You fucking brat! You’ll never amount to anything. You make me sick!”The memory of thethwackfrom the strap against Ryan’s skin made Smokey’s muscles bunch, and he saw himself as a young boy again, rushing over to protect his brother. The belt whipped him across his face when he stepped between Ryan and his father. Then his father turned on him as his mother quietly scampered away. It was a scenario that had repeated itself a thousand times in their household.
Smokey reached over and pulled the blanket from the other side of the bed. “You smell just like the old bastard always did,” he mumbled under his breath as he covered his brother.
He walked over to the window and leaned against the sill. He lit a joint and stared into the darkness. Thoughts of Ashley flitted through his mind. He’d enjoyed having dinner with her, and it surprised the hell out of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had that good of a time with a chick and it hadn’t ended in sex.But she’s in danger—I sense it.For some reason, he felt an overpowering need to protect her, which was fucked up since he hardly knew the woman. But then, he didn’t like to see anyone who worked for him be in distress.Yeah, that’s all it is. I’d feel the same way if it were Pearl, Ivy, Sabrina, Georgia, Katrina, or any of my crew.
Smokey stubbed out the joint, then crossed the room to grab a sleeping bag out of the closet. After snagging a pillow off the bed, he spread the bag on the floor and slipped inside, then punched the pillow into shape and closed his eyes.
7
Ashley stoodin the doorway of Smokey’s office, once again looking at his empty desk. For the past three days, she hadn’t caught one glimpse of him, leading her to suspect he was avoiding her. She’d thought the dinner meeting a few nights back had gone well, even though no business had actually been discussed. But now, she was second-guessing her assessment of that evening.
When Smokey had told her he had to go, she’d been suspicious at first, but the tightness around his mouth revealed he was telling the truth about his brother. She’d planned to ask him how everything had turned out the following morning, and had even gone out of her way to stop at the local grocery store to pick up a box of donuts for him, but he hadn’t shown up to work. And now, three days later, there was still no sign of him.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Pearl asked as she walked over to Ashley.
“Yes. I seem to keep missing Mr. Harty, and I need to speak with him. Do you know when he’ll be back in the office?”
She smiled. “Mr. Harty’s been working on-site for the last few days, and I don’t expect him back in the office for the rest of the week. Did you want me to give him a message when he checks in?”
