“He liked you a lot.”
“Steer, Hustler, and Pants have helped out on the road so much. I feel safe around them too. They joke about hooking up with some of the groupies—”
“They’re not joking,” he says without a hint of laughter.
“But they don’t badger the ladies or trade backstage passes for blow jobs. I’ve heard plenty of horror stories about that going on out on the road.”
He leans against the wall, arching his back and rolling his shoulders. We’ve been sittin’ on this rock for some time. Bet he’s stiff after all that driving and now this.
“That’s not always the case in a motorcycle club,” he says. “We’re more of the exception than the rule. I’m not saying my club’s all soft and cuddly,” he quickly adds. “I just want you to remember that when we’re mingling with other clubs.”
“Trust me, I know.”
He clears his throat. “We have a saying in our clubhouse. If you gotta take it by force, fear, or lying, you don’t deserve it. That’s the gist of it, anyway.”
“By it, I assume you mean pussy?”
He chokes on a laugh. “Yeah. Our old president and VP allowed that line to be blurred sometimes and it never sat right with me.”
“Z’s not like that at all, is he?”
“No.” He coughs and looks away. “Anyone with that mindset was…shown the door when Z took over.”
“And I bet you backed him up.”
He nods once.
More pieces fall into place. About Rooster’s status as VP and his loyalty to his president. “I hope I get to spend more time around Z and Lilly when we’re back in New York.”
“I like everything about that sentence.” He flashes the first full, genuine smile since Ashley ruined our morning.
My own lips quirk up as I snuggle closer to him. “And last but not least, Jigsaw.”
“What about him?”
“He’s always watching my back. I never feel unsafe when he’s got eyes on me.”
“Are you sure about that?” He raises an eyebrow. “Jiggy enjoys dancing along the creepy-perv line sometimes.”
I burst into laughter. “Yeah, but it’s friendly verbal sparring. I reckon he’s trying to get you peeved more than come on to me.”
“True.” He rolls his eyes skyward.
“If I told him it bothered me, I have a feeling he’d stop.”
“Yeah,” he agrees.
“Anyway,” I continue before I forget the point I wanted to make, “what I was trying to express with that little detour down ‘Best of Lost Kings MC Lane’ was that I’ve witnessed your brothers letting loose in their clubhouses, out on the road, and partying with other MCs. And while I may have been scandalized at some things I witnessed,” I quirk my lips into a smile, so he understands I’m teasing, “I’ve never been afraid.” I press my hand against my stomach. “And I usually get a gut feelin’ about those kinda things.”
He scoffs. “My aunt was a big believer in following your gut instincts.”
“She was a smart lady.” The smile fades from my lips and I take a deep breath. “After being kidnapped and terrorized by Martin Suggs,” my whole body quivers with disgust, “I guess what I’m trying to say is, that if you or your club have done stuff, to certain people, I believe in my heart, there was a reason.” I stare him dead in the eyes. “And I’ll bet the world’s a better place for it.”
“God damn,” he breathes out.
“Why are you so shocked?” I add a heaping dose of southern sass. “We’re all about the frontier justice in Texas.”
“Guess so.”
I hesitate before asking my next question, not sure if digging into this is worth the pain it might cause him. “I hate asking…and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but if Ashley dropped ya like a hot potato because of…what you told her, why the hell’s she still so pissed a decade later?”
His body tightens with tension and he stares up at the sky.
“Sorry.” My mouth twists in an apologetic frown. “Bet you’d prefer to forget about her.”
“I wish I could forget the person who turned my life into such a shitstorm.”
“There’s more?”
“Oh yeah. The break-up was just the beginning.”
Chapter Fourteen
Rooster
Logan, age sixteen…
Anger, shame, and fear swirled around my sixteen-year-old brain for days. I wasn’t exactly heartbroken about Ashley dumping me, but a niggling sense of warning or doubt wouldn’t stop poking me in the stomach.
She told her mother. What if she tells everyone in school next?
I’d told Jensen that Ashley and I had broken up—which the fucker actually applauded. Mentioned it to Aunt Em too. Her feelings on the subject landed firmly on good riddance. I hadn’t told either of them about my stupid disclosure.
I should’ve known that secret wouldn’t stay buried for long.
The Friday after our breakup was game day.
I actually enjoyed school on Fridays during football season. Uncle Boone would wake up early to eat breakfast and discuss strategy with me. Jigsaw would razz my ass and remind me that only douchebags played football. He swore he only poked fun at me to keep my giant ego in check. We both knew he’d be sitting next to my aunt and uncle later that night, cheering as loud as anyone else.