Lazarus (The Henchmen MC 7)

Quite frankly, unless you had been there, there was no way you could possibly even begin to know that kind of low.

Pretty girl like her alone at a bar on a Thursday night. She couldn't have had many people around her who gave a fuck if they let her do that. So it was likely she either didn't have much family or they weren't close.

See, I had sweat it out alone.

I had gone through that misery without a fucking soul in the world who cared if I lived or died.

I didn't know her from Eve, but I didn't want that same fate for her.

I fucking cared.

I didn't know her. I didn't know if she was the valedictorian of her high school or if she blew guys for money. It didn't matter what she had done, where she had been. Everyone did what they needed to survive. I wasn't someone who could judge.

But I cared.

Maybe it was a form of penance. Maybe I felt the need to pay it forward. Whatever the reason, I was going to help her.

Whether she liked it or not.

"Thought you were coming back last night," Edison growled at me when I walked in the door. Not because he was moody; that was just how the fucker talked.

"I thought so too. Turns out I got some company," I hedged.

To that, his lips quirked up slightly, giving him an altogether devilish look. "Company, huh?" he asked, gleaning exactly what I meant for him to- that I took a woman home with me. It was an easy enough explanation. And since they never stopped ribbing me about not getting enough pussy, they would understand if I wanted a feast after my famine.

"Yeah. I was wondering if you guys could cover for me a bit for the next night or two."

To that, he chuckled, the sound a low rumble. "Got a taste of something sweet, huh? Alright. I'll take your shifts and if Renny asks, I'll tell him you just lost your virginity finally and need a weekend to figure out how your cock works and where the G-spot is. No biggie."

I snorted at that, shaking my head. "I appreciate it."

"Two inches," he called as I started walking away, making me turn back.

"Two inches?" I repeated.

"G-spot. Two inches in, top wall, no bigger than a half dollar. And they like firm pressure, not pansy ass stroking."

To that, completely unexpected, like most things with Edison, I threw my head back and laughed. "Found my first G-spot when I was fifteen, but thanks for the info."

"You missed Cyrus coming back in last night," he added, going behind the bar for a glass and the bottle of vodka. Edison liked to drink. Being an addict myself, I could spot one from a mile away. He wasn't one. He just liked to drink. And he had the tolerance of a lifelong alcoholic. Him having three fingers of vodka at eleven in the morning was basically his equivalent to some watered-down mimosas at brunch.

"Oh yeah? What'd I miss?"

"He brought home a mother fucking harem," Edison said, shaking his head as he sipped his vodka straight. "Apparently that Addison chick has a lot of friends and they are all open to..." he paused, thinking of the right phrase, "sharing."

That was Cyrus for you.

"How many?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"He brought four, but Reeve somehow managed to get one into his bed instead."

"What, none for you?"

He snorted at that. "The reek of ex high school cheerleaders and Victoria's Secret underwear and desperation for male validation. I can do better than that."

Edison, for all the ragging he did on me about not getting laid enough, was picky as fuck with women. He definitely got his fair share, but he never set his sights on the easiest targets. In fact, he tended to like the girls who were out with books in their hands or earbuds in their ears- you know, the girls with the 'fuck off' plastered across their foreheads.

That was his type.

His cock wouldn't go within ten feet of an ex-cheerleader.

"Victoria's Secret does some great work with g-strings nowadays," Cyrus supplied, walking in half-awake, rubbing at his beard.

"Don't need a designer tag on her panties. Much more fucking interested in the ass beneath it," Edison shrugged as he finished his drink. "Alright, that's it for me. Gotta go help Cash and Janie at the gym. We're hanging fucking heavy bags today," he informed us, going to the door and disappearing outside.

"Pretty sure Janie weighs less than a heavy bag," Cyrus said, nodding toward the kitchen.

I followed behind, knowing Edison offered to cover, but figuring it was best to get them all on-board if possible.

"How is the shop coming along?" I asked Reeve who was already standing in the kitchen going about making coffee. He, having a past that meant he was handy, had been pitching in on the rebuild of Repo's vintage car shop. They also did some work on bikes, but generally left the everyday automotive repair to Colton King and his men, them having been around longer and Reign not wanting to step on toes especially since The Henchmen didn't actually need the money from their legit businesses.