5 Bikers for Valentines - Page 41

“Just try to take it easy. A busy night means a lot of tips, and we’re two hours away from last call. It’ll let up sometime, and if it doesn’t, then we can skip out on cleaning and get the fuck out of here.”

“I’m down if you’re down,” I said.

“Regroup in an hour?”

The man was waving his money relentlessly as his cheeks grew hot with anger.

“An hour,” I said, sighing. “Sounds good.”

CHAPTER 13

I cursed myself for not having any of the brothers’ numbers. They hadn’t been at the bar for the past couple of days since that fucking phone call. I was growing more and more concerned about them, especially since tensions were running high in town. We could always tell when crews were posturing and preparing for a fight. They would ride through town like they owned the fucking place and stir up trouble. The laundromat in Lucas Corner was the scene of a rowdy pregaming session before our bar opened last night, and it just happened to be a bunch of obnoxious fuckers in red leather cuts.

The same red leather cut some asshole was wearing a couple of weeks ago when the bouncer had to haul him out of the damn bar.

I wished I could call the brothers, just to make sure they were okay. I had tried to shake them from my mind and work through the rest of my week, but it had been hard. Lindy knew I was distracted, and I was dropping more drinks than I ever had in my duration as a bartender. It had gotten so bad last night that my boss pulled me off to the side and made me clock out for thirty minutes to get some air.

I was struggling to not worry about them, and it was getting worse.

A knock at the front door caused me to roll out of bed. I grabbed my robe and pulled it around me as I made my way down the stairs. There was a note from my mother on the door, scrawled in her drunken handwriting. There was something about “home,” something about “2:30,” and something like “not coming home.”

I tossed the note off to the side as I opened the door.

My eyes lit up the moment they took in the sight of Nick and Tyler. My gaze scanned them, trying to see if they were all right. I was searching for blood or bruises or battered knuckles. Anything to alert me to what the hell had been going on lately.

“She even looks beautiful in the mornings,” Tyler said. “Fantastic.”

“What?” I asked.

“He said you look beautiful, and I agree,” Nick said. “Did you sleep well?”

“I, uh, I’m not used to doing this before coffee,” I said.

“Then I’ll make it quick.” Tyler handed me a folded-up piece of paper and I took it from his hands. It was smooth and small, folded over once to hide its contents. I opened the piece of paper and saw it was a check, and when I saw how much it was made out for, my eyes bulged from my head.

“What the hell is this?” I asked.

“I see you’re awake now,” Tyler said, grinning.

“Yeah, she didn’t even need the coffee,” Nick followed.

The check was made out to me for thirty thousand fucking dollars.

“Whatever this is, I can't take it,” I said.

“You can, and you will,” Nick said.

“Not even sort of,” I said. “Here, Tyler.”

“Nope,” he said. “It’s all yours.”

“I’m not taking this from you. Where the fuck did this come from?”

“I adore that sassy mouth,” Tyler said. “We should all stay over next time, and you can talk dirty to us all night long.”

I made an annoyed sound and stared at Nick and Tyler, who were looking at me expressions of smug glee on their gorgeous faces. Suddenly, I had a thought that made me sick to my stomach.

“Is this because of what I— what we—” I couldn’t even form the words.

Tags: Rye Hart Erotic
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