“I know.”
I also know now that she was dating a guy named Nico, and I spent more than an hour searching my brain for anyone in our social circle with that name. I scoured social media to see if he was a friend of a friend. All I found was two frat guys named Nick, but no Nico.
“Any word on Grace’s services?”
I shake my head. “I really don’t want to talk about that right now. How’s the cake business?”
Willow grins. “I don’t want to talk about that right now. Any boyfriends on the horizon?”
“Hell, no. You?”
“Not yet, but I’m on the market, so if you know any hot guys feel free to pass my number along.” She wiggles her eyebrows and laughs. “My hours make it impossible to meet guys.”
“My job makes it difficult to meet anyone but college guys, fishermen, and bikers.”
“Nothing wrong with bikers,” she adds with a sigh. “One of these days, I’m going to have my very own bike and a sexy biker boy to ride with, side-by-side.”
She takes the fireball shots from the tray and hands me one. “To Grace. May she remain forever in our hearts, knocking back shots with us from heaven.”
“To Grace. You will be missed.” I take the shot and knock it back. The whisky burns as it makes its way through my body, and I lean into that feeling while ignoring what a bad idea it is to be out tonight, drinking when someone murdered Grace.
It’s not safe, but tonight, I don’t care. Tonight, I’m grieving the loss of my friend and celebrating her life. Besides, what are the odds it’ll happen to me?
“Your phone is ringing,” Willow shouts and points to the screen lit up on the table, Kelsey’s smiling face staring back at me.
“Kelsey,” I shout with a sigh. “What is it?”
“Where are you? I’m at the house, and you’re not here.” Is that a hint of worry I detect in her voice?
Doubtful. “I’m not there right now. What do you care?”
I hear the sigh, even over the thumping bass of the dance track. I clench my fists as I picture my younger sister pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.
“I have some news I want to share with you. Will you be home soon?”
“Nope. Willow and I are out celebrating Grace’s life.” I sigh and reach for the second shot. “We’re at Club Dynasty if you want to come.”
“I’m not dressed to go out to a club, Kenna. And I can’t do crowds, you know that.”
I do know that. Since her kidnapping and attack, my sister has been very uncomfortable in public. “You’re all right if it’s a crowd of bikers.”
“I’m not doing this with you, Kenna. Just…call me when you’re not getting drunk at the club. It’s about Grace.”
Kelsey doesn’t wait for my response and ends the call.
“Bitch.” I don’t know why things have to be so difficult between us, especially now when we could lean on each other as sisters should.
“What’s up?” Willow glances my way, concern in her eyes.
“Kelsey says she has some news about Grace, but then she hung up instead of delivering the damn news.” Why did she do that? “How cruel is that?”
Willow sighs and shakes her head. “Look, Kenna, maybe it’s some news that’s best shared in private.”
“Maybe.”
“Should we go?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t want to hear any bad news, not tonight. Grace won’t magically be alive if I hear the news tonight, or tomorrow, so it can wait. Tonight, I just want to forget.”
“Then let’s forget.” Willow flashes a smile and stands and summons a waitress. “Two more shots of fireball, please. And two blowjob shots!” Willow grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet as a hip-hop song blasts through the speakers, and we shake our asses until the shots arrive.
“All right, Kenna, what are we drinking to?”
“To Grace. Again. She was a much better friend than I deserved.”
“To Grace.”
My eyes slide shut as I sway to the music, the alcohol thumps in my veins, and I can say that I am genuinely having a good time. A damn good time.
Damn the hangover in the morning. This is the life.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”
My eyes open at the familiar masculine voice to see Ace glaring up at Willow and me dancing on the table.
Uh-oh.
Chapter Fourteen
Ace
“Oh fuck. Mark,” McKenna says as casually as you please over the roaring bass of the six-foot-high speaker behind her. “What are you doing here?”
I fold my arms and stare up at her because clearly, this woman has lost her fucking mind. It’s the only explanation.
“What am I doing here? What the hell are you doing here?”
She blinks, looks at her friend in confusion, and then back to me.
“Dancing. Obviously. Your turn.”
Oh, she is a smartass, and sure, I dig it, but right now, I just want to throttle the impulsive woman. “Oh, you want to know what I’m doing here?”