Throne of Scars (Lost Kings MC 20) - Page 122

I chuckle at the amused note in her voice. “Hard to tell where Jiggy’s head is at.” I lean sideways to get a better view of him but he’s busy talking to Steer. “He’s a good guy, though.”

“Oh, I know.” She glances over her shoulder. “I just don’t want things to be too awkward between Rooster and him.”

The more time I spend with her, the easier it is to see why Rooster patched her so fast.

“He could use a good woman to look after him,” she says. “It just don’t gotta be my momma, you know?”

“I hear you.”

Her mother bustles in between us to grab her purse from the bar, say a few words to Shelby and then leave again without acknowledging me.

Shelby sighs. “Sorry, don’t take it personal. She has this borderline obsessive fear I’m gonna get knocked up and ditch my career for raising babies.” She rolls her eyes. “She’s probably worried you’re contagious.”

I snort, then laugh. “I feel like she should know you better than that.”

“Right? I mean, seriously.” Her smile falters. “You know I’m only jokin’ right? I’m excited about your lil’ guy. Can’t wait to smooch the crap outta him when he gets here.”

“Shelby, no worries. At all.” I felt the same way at her age.

Chapter Forty-Two

Grinder

“That’s it for now.” Z slaps the table to dismiss everyone. “I need my officers to stick around.” His serious blue gaze swings my way. “You too, G.”

I blink and sit my ass back down. Not sure what the fuck he needs me to stick around for.

Even though Z didn’t ask for their presence, Rock and Wrath join the remaining members at the table. Z nods at them.

This thing’s starting to feel like a setup, but I can’t figure out the end goal.

Z stands and paces to the double doors, pushes them closed until there’s a soft click, then returns to his seat at the head of the table.

A serious air descends over the room.

I push forward to the edge of my chair, resting my elbows on the table. My body’s on high alert for some reason and over the years I’ve learned to listen to those instincts.

“It looks like Steer’s going to be moving on as the SAA to our Deadbranch, Tennessee charter.” Z nods at Steer. “Congratulations, brother.”

It’s a lateral move, so not really something to celebrate in my opinion, but I keep that to myself.

“Congrats, brother.” Rooster reaches across the table and shakes Steer’s hand. “What happened to Squiggy?”

“Apparently, he’s moving into the prez position.” Z casts an irritated look at Rooster. “Although Priest strongly hinted he’d prefer someone else there. Seems you did too good a job while you were on the road.”

Rooster shrugs. “What’d Digger do, retire? Or get retired?”

“Didn’t sound like a voluntary retirement,” Rock says.

“After what was going on in their strip club, I’m not surprised,” Rooster says. “He’s cleaning house to gear up for that documentary he wants to do. That way he can claim it was a “few bad apples” who are no longer part of the club. Last I knew Digger wasn’t sure Squiggy was solid, though.”

“Well, whatever job Squiggy was off doing must’ve been good for the club,” Z explains, “because Priest seemed happy with him.” He gives Rooster another pointed glare. “For now.”

Again, Rooster ignores the implied accusation. “Gonna miss you, brother.” He nods at Steer. “We had a good time out on the road.”

Steer nods. “Figure this will make things easier. This summer, Z won’t lose half his officers going out on tour with you and your girl.”

Z chuckles. “I might take off with you fuckwits this summer and leave Hustler to run the club on his own.”

Hustler sits up, shaking himself out of his lethargic state. “What’s happening?”

“Lilly and I could use a road trip before Chance starts school.” Z lifts his chin at Rooster. “She loves Shelby. Said she wouldn’t mind helping her out.”

“Fuck yeah, I’d love having you guys out with us,” Rooster says.

Jigsaw cackles and rubs his hands together. “Greg will piss his pants when he sees Z coming.”

“And Z won’t infringe on the pussy spree.” Steer reaches his fist across the table for Jigsaw to bump. After a second of hesitation, Jigsaw taps his knuckles against Steer’s. “Win-win.”

Still not sure why the fuck my presence was required for this, I sit back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. Next summer, my only plans involve being elbow deep in diapers, and spoiling my wife.

“Don’t worry, old man.” Z’s attention returns to me. Fucker misses nothing. “There’s a reason I asked you to stay.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Wrath grinning. That’s never a good sign.

“I’d like you to step into the role as my SAA.” Z’s tone is solemn. He’s not yanking my chain.

I jolt upright again. “What? I’ve been out of the life for fifteen years. Barely getting my boots wet. Can’t wear my cut in public. Had to hide in the basement like a coward when the cops were here. How the fuck am I supposed to protect your back, brother?”

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