Keyes didn’t even lift a hand in acknowledgement. He took long strides for his motorcycle. The anger still drove him, but now there seemed a dread building right underneath. His life was such shit, and he couldn’t see it ever settling down. He just couldn’t figure out why he felt so dirty and more alone than ever before. His heart gave an ache as he started to lift his leg to straddle his bike.
“Why do you smell different?” He looked over to see Fox standing between him and the building. Keyes only lifted his shirt sleeve and sniffed. He liked the smell. It was in his hair too. What kind of fucked up life did he live that the smell of clean made everybody question him?
The miles racked up as Alec kept a steady pace, jogging on his treadmill. The mounted television in the corner of the room was on with the volume turned down. Alexa worked through the built-in speaker, playing a random workout playlist from Spotify—someone clearly liked dirty rap music to listen to as they exercised. Alec, not so much, but he didn’t care enough to change it. Instead, he concentrated on the cell phone stationed at the monitor of the treadmill. It was nine thirty at night, and Key hadn’t contacted him all day.
He hadn’t seen that coming. They’d had a great time last night. Alec was certain they had connected. This morning had been a bit rocky, but Alec had finally realized Key had some possessiveness going on, and that seemed to resolve itself. They’d ended on a good note, on promises of a future get-together. Alec would have preferred that future date be tonight.
Yeah, didn’t appear like that would be happening. Would Key even show this late? Alec honestly didn’t know. He should have nailed down a more definite time, secured their second date. But he’d meant what he said this morning: he’d kind of like Key to make the next move. If it were up to Alec, Key would have called in to work today and spent the entire day right here with him.
Now, Alec ran. He hated running. Alec pushed the stop button and gave the situation more attention than he should. Key wasn’t a talker, so he didn’t see him calling or texting. Maybe he should reach out.
“Don’t seem needy, Pierce.”
Key would turn up. He would. Stop overthinking it. Give the guy space. He’d be back.
=?=
His head was so fucked up.
Keyes pushed through the front doors of the clubhouse, about as pissed off as he’d ever been and that said a lot for a day that had taken his anger through the stratosphere multiple times over.
“What the hell happened to you?”
He growled an unintelligible response, looking down at a patch of blood on the front of his T-shirt.
“You’re bleedin’ on the goddamn floor,” Ace, their regular barkeep and recently sprung brother, called out. His sole job for the club was to maintain the clubhouse, and the guy took his role seriously. Ace jumped into action, wrapping a towel around Keyes’s battered knuckles. “What the fuck happened to you?”
“Dev started it,” he managed, knowing Dev was following somewhere close behind. He’d be there soon and had always been far better at crafting a tale than Keyes. Dev would say something grandiose, guaranteed to rile up the members, sending them off, chasing their tails, trying to seek retribution.
Keyes didn’t possess that same skill at bullshitting. He sidled up to the bar and tucked the end of the towel around his hand. The problem tonight had come when Devilman hadn’t liked something one of the buyers had said. Dev called them disrespectful. His quick-tempered buddy hadn’t let the offensive comment settle before he jumped right in the middle of the guy’s shit, pounding him into the ground. Keyes always had Dev’s back, which forced him to join the all-out brawl.
This wasn’t the first time, but in this fight, there had been a lot of guns on both sides. It was a wonder he hadn’t been shot dead right on the spot.
What the hell ever. It wasn’t a hardship. Keyes had been spoiling for a fight all day long.
“Bud Light,” he muttered.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Ray-Ray said, taking the stool next to his at the bar, leaning sideways to get a better look at him. The beer was placed in front of him, and Keyes took a hearty swallow, letting the cold brew wash away the bile of the day. He was surrounded by his brothers now, all ready to kick ass for whatever had gotten in his way. Dev needed to hurry his ass up.
“It’s Dev’s deal. It’s done,” he answered, looking around at the now quiet room, all eyes on him.
Knuckles cracked.
Keyes took another long drink, this time draining the bottle.
“You sure? You’re pretty wound up,” Ray-Ray said, a show of serious concern crossing his face. Ray’s expression mimicked the looks he’d gotten all day.