“How do we wanna do this?” Deuce asks.

  “I think you should do it, Prez,” I vote. Sometimes, you have to let others have the fun. But in this case, I don’t think anyone would enjoy taking this life. It weighs heavy on us all, even though he’s no longer a brother. But as our president, it’s his right to terminate a disloyal brother.

  “Anyone disagree?” Bear leaves it open for discussion, but no one argues.

  “Nah. It should be you, Prez,” Cross says. Everyone agrees.

  “Then it shall be done,” Bear declares, then calls the meeting to a close.

  Everyone is silent as they get up and go their separate ways. I’m the last to leave the room, but before I even breech the doorway, Bear calls me to stay back.

  “What’s up, Prez?”

  “Do you have an idea where our friend Georgie could be?” It still pisses me off that he was able to evade me at the hospital. I thought for sure I put him in critical condition or he would have died during transit. And the time I spent at the police station was enough time for him to sneak out. Though, how he did that while the cops were supposed to be watching him is another mystery.

  “I have no idea. But he knows we’re looking for him now, so he’s either on the run or going into hiding.”

  “Any ideas where he might hide out? Do we have a list of people we could question his whereabouts?”

  I think about that for a moment. The guy I killed gave me all the information about Georgie that he knew, and none of it contained any clues where to find him if he went into hiding. But I can’t think of anyone else that would possibly have the information we need. Unless…

  “Maybe we should have a chat with T-Bone before you end him,” I suggest, thinking he might be the only one to give us the information we need.

  Bear stands, and I follow him out of the room. It’s time to have a final chat with our lost brother.

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, Bear and I are standing in front of T-Bone. He doesn’t even look like the brother I remember. He’s bloodied and haggard, but I don’t feel sorry for him. This is what he deserves.

  In our way of life, all we have is our brotherhood and loyalty, and he took that and shit on it. Fucker deserves so much more, but to make things easier on us, we decided to make it quick for him.

  Coughing, T-Bone lifts his head to look at us with acceptance in his eyes. No fear or anger. He knows what he did and what’s to come. He won’t beg for his life or for our forgiveness. It’s too late for that.

  “I’m sorry, brother,” he whispers through cracked lips.

  Bear holds up his hand, silencing him, though I don’t think he was going to say more.

  “I don’t want your bullshit apology. You could’ve come to us, told us what was goin’ on. But instead, you chose some piece of shit over brotherhood. It’s too late for ‘sorry,’ but there’s one thing you can do. It won’t save your life or renew your status, but it will help those that you’ve betrayed.”

  Bear steps closer, and now has a look of sadness on his face. It is sad, though. We’re losing a brother tonight, no matter the reason behind it or the way of it, we are forced to say good-bye.

  “Where can we find Georgie?” Bear asks, but before T-Bone can answer, he adds, “And if you ever felt anything for our brotherhood, you will not lie.”

  T-Bone stares off into space for a moment, then looks at Bear. “There’s a state park a few miles outside of Dickinson, North Dakota. It’s been closed for a few years, but it still has a few rundown cabins. He’s gone there a few times before to lie low. He might be there.”

  I’m not sure if it’s wise, but I believe him. Georgie may not be there, but it’s at least a start.

  Nodding, Bear backs away, pulls his pistol from his belt, and levels it at T-Bone’s head. He doesn’t look away, but stares past the barrel, right into his president’s eyes.

  “I’ll see you in hell, T-Bone,” Bear says, then pulls the trigger, taking the life of a former friend and brother.

  Walking out to our bikes, Bear says, “Call our brothers in New Salem. Have them check it out. If they find him or clues he was there, I want you there to finish this.”

  Nodding my head, I pull out my phone and make the call, hoping he’s there so we can end this.

  Chapter Nine

  Angel

  After walking away from Dominic—or Torq, if I go off the name on his vest—I head back into the dressing room to wait for Amy to finish for the night.

  No one asks me who the request came from, and I’m thankful. I didn’t feel like talking at all, let alone talking about him, because that would mean I’d have to talk about how we met, which would lead to how I came to be here. But ultimately what I didn’t want to talk about was how I felt when I’m near him. I definitely didn’t want to talk about that, or even think about it.

  Amy was quiet after she finished her final dance, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask her what was wrong. Maybe she’s just tired, or maybe I’m reading it all wrong. I have a lot going on in my head right now.

  “You ready to go?” she asks without looking me in the eyes.

  “Yeah.” I grab my stuff and walk out behind her with my head down the whole way. I don’t hear anything besides the regular chatter and music of the bar. I hope Dominic’s gone. What would I do if he was still here? Would he stop me? Probably not after the way I blew him off.

  When I asked him if he knew who I was, at first I thought I saw recognition, like he remembered me. And it made me feel happy and angry all at once. Happy because he didn’t forget me, but angry because it still wouldn’t change anything. Sure, I’m not home with my parents anymore, and I think I’ve done very well for myself in the time I’ve been here, working to disconnect myself from what they groomed me to be. But all the important stuff that makes me who I am is still the same. My beliefs, wants, and needs remain. He just never took the time to look deeper than the title that hung over my head.

  Not like it matters anyway, because he didn’t make the connection. Have I changed that much, or did he really not remember?

  Once outside, Leroy ushers us to a cab, pays the driver to take us home, and wishes us a good night. Neither Amy nor I say anything, but I do try to give him a thankful smile, though I’m not sure if I succeed or not.

  The ride to our apartment complex is strained, and it makes me feel uncomfortable. I don’t know if it’s just me or if something happened for Amy to be putting off weird vibes, but I can’t stop thinking about it. Maybe it would be a better idea to try to talk to her now, figure out what’s going on. At least it would keep my mind and thoughts busy so I wouldn’t think about Dominic’s sexy face, or the way he looked at me with so much lust and want.

  I wait until we’re in the hallway to say anything. She goes to her door, which is out of the norm for her. If I didn’t know something was wrong before, I sure as heck do now. Usually, we both gravitate to one door or the other, but tonight, it’s like she just wants to be alone.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, suddenly feeling guilty. Maybe she’s more upset about earlier than I originally thought. Maybe my excuses didn’t work with her. I just feel so crazy with everything that happened tonight.

  Dominic makes me mad and want to smile at the same time. He makes me feel weak but grateful, to have him to protect me. I feel passion toward him, sometimes more than what I feel about dancing, and that scares the hell out of me.

  “Just tired. I think I’ll just go to bed tonight.” She opens her door, but I can’t let her leave without knowing if she’s really okay.

  “Amy, wait.” I grab her arm and turn her to face me. “I’m sorry about earlier. I saw someone in the crowd tonight, someone I knew before coming here. I was just thrown that he was there, ya know?” I explain, not stopping to think about what I’m telling her. I know she’ll want to know more, but right now, I’ll gladly tell her everything if it means she won’t hate me. Amy is my first real friend, like ever. I need her in my life, and maybe it’d be good for me to get everything out. Maybe she can shed some light on how I’m feeling right now.

  She doesn’t seem completely convinced, but she doesn’t look as distant anymore.

  “We’re friends, right?” she asks. The question throws me.

  “What? Of course we are.”

  “Then why didn’t you just tell me that? I mean, that’s huge.”

  She’s right. I should have told her about it, but she doesn’t know anything about what brought me here. I saw this as being a fresh start, not wanting to bring up the ghosts of my past. I didn’t expect one to come walking into my workplace.

  “I know, and I’m sorry. But I want to tell you about it now. All of it. That is, if you want to listen.” I just hope I haven’t lost her.

  Grabbing my hand, she leads me into her apartment and right to her couch. Plopping down, I wait for her as she sets a tea kettle on the stove before grabbing a bottle of rum out of the cupboard. She’s quiet while she makes the tea, though it’s not like it takes long since she doesn’t boil the water completely before placing a teabag into the cup and pouring in some rum.

  I’m a little nervous as she brings me a cup because I’ve never really drank alcohol before. I’ve had a few sips of wine I managed to sneak behind my parents’ backs, but nothing hard like rum. I haven’t even had anything to drink in the whole month since I’ve been here. I’ve just been so focused on starting over and just living I couldn’t even think about alcohol.

  Laughing a little as she hands it to me, she says, “Don’t worry. I didn’t put that much in there. Just enough to relax us. You’ll like it, promise.”

  Still a little unsure, I take a small sip. I can taste a little bit of bite, but other than that, it tastes like regular tea. Maybe even better. “This is really good,” I tell her, happy that I didn’t chicken out. I may have to have her buy me some rum too, so I can make this for us at my place.

  “Okay, spill the beans.” And I do. I tell her about how I grew up and the things I went through. I told her about the plans my parents made for me and how they didn’t care about what I wanted. I then told her how I met Dominic, how I lied for him, and the things he said that night. I explained how all of that led me here, meeting her, and seeing him again.

  I tell her how I felt and still feel, and how he didn’t even realize who I was.

  After I fill her in on everything, I wait for her to tell me what she thinks I should do now.

  “Wow.” That’s it. That’s all she’s got for me.

  Taking a sip of my tea, needing the liquid to moisten my throat after talking for so long, I feel the liquor starting to hit me a little. I don’t feel drunk, only a little tired, which is probably a mix of actually being tired and the rum.

  “Yeah.”

  Holding her tea up to her lips, she blows on it absentmindedly. Finally taking a sip, she puts her cup down on the coffee table in front her, then levels me with a serious look.

  “Do you like him?” she asks. With everything I’ve told her, that’s what she decides to ask? Not if I miss my parents—which I don’t—or why I felt I needed to lie to the police? She gets right down to the nitty gritty.

  I’m unsure of how to answer that question. I barely know the man, so I can’t really explain how I feel about him. But I know how I feel when I’m around him. That doesn’t make it easy to determine how I feel about him, though.

  Seeing my struggle, she changes tactics. “What are you thinking right this second?”

  Blowing out a breath, I blurt out everything that’s going on in my head. “I’m thinking I don’t even know him, so how can I like someone I don’t even know? And I’m thinking that he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met. That the few times I’ve been near him, it’s like my body felt connected to his, if that makes sense. Like I had to be near him. But I also think the things he said that first time we met really hurt me. It made me feel worse about myself, which I honestly didn’t think was possible. But most of all, after everything that’s happened, I’m scared because I feel like I shouldn’t want him around, but I do. And that scares me.”

  Smiling knowingly, she says, “You like him.”

  “No, I don’t!” I yell a little too loudly, which only makes her smile bigger. But what do I know about these sorts of things? Does everything I just described really mean I like him? “Do I?” I ask, mainly to myself because I’m so confused.

  “Well, maybe. I mean, sure, there is confusion and anger, but that’s a part of any relationship,” she explains, which scares me more when she uses that word—relationship. Like that’s something I already have with him.

  “I don’t know, Amy.” I wish more than anything that this was simple. That I could just feel the things I felt and understand them, agree with them.

  “Listen, honey, I hate to tell you this, but the only way you’ll know is by giving him a chance. You said he only wanted your company tonight to talk. Maybe you should take him up on that offer. See where it leads.” Everything she says makes sense, but I’m not sure if I’m ready. Or if this is what I really want. “Plus, you are attracted to him. That much I know is true.” She smirks, wagging her eyebrows.

  I wish I could dispute that last remark, but unfortunately, I think she’s right. I am attracted to him. I only wish I wasn’t. I don’t even know what to do with this attraction. I’ve never felt this way before about anyone, not even the boys in my school. Sure, a few of them were cute, but nothing compared to Dominic.

  “Ugh, what do I do?” I need her advice something fierce. I’m so new to all this stuff. I’ve never even kissed a boy. But a man like Dominic, he’s surely kissed lots of girls and done a whole lot more. Raw sexual vibes come off him like a hurricane. There’s no way a guy like him would be interested in a girl like me. I’m way too inexperienced.

  “Well, first, I think you need to tell him who you are.” I was afraid she’d say that.

  “Or, I could not tell him and just move forward as Angel,” I counter. Wouldn’t things be better if he didn’t know I was the lame girl he met a month ago? The preacher’s daughter?

  “Oh no. You have to tell him. Otherwise, anything that starts from here would be a lie. And you don’t want a new relationship to be based off a lie, do you?” I know she’s right. I just wish she wasn’t.

  “I don’t know how to tell him. I’ll feel stupid, reminding him that I’m the girl he had to save, the preacher’s daughter, in barely there clothing. He was disgusted with me then, but he’ll laugh at me now. And if I thought what he said before hurt, this will devastate me for sure, Amy.”

  Reaching out her hand, she holds mine in hers. “Look, honey, the last thing I believe he’ll do is laugh at you. I mean, look at you! I know you’re scared, but it’ll be as easy or hard as you make it. You don’t have to make a big deal out of it, really. Next time he tries to talk to you, tell him who you are. Ask if he remembers you. Get it out of the way first thing, then you’ll know. It’s that simple. You can’t let someone define who you are or validate you by their opinion. As you know, that’s no way to live. It’s what you ran from. Your life is in your hands, sweetheart. You’re young. If this doesn’t go the way you want it to, then consider it an early life lesson.” Yeah, it sounds simple when she says it, but I highly doubt it’ll be that easy when the time comes for me to spit it out. I’ve already asked if he knew who I was, and he didn’t.

  Blowing out a breath, I squeeze her hand. “Okay. I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything.” And I can’t. It may take a few tries, but hopefully the truth will come out sooner rather than later. Once that’s over with, I can move on. He’ll want to stay away from me, then I won’t have to worry about him or my feelings for him again.

  “You can do this, Angelica. I have faith in you. And if he does reject you, then he doesn’t deserve you. And we’ll have Leroy beat his ass and bury him in the desert.” Her support makes me glad to have her as a friend. Even if some of the things she says is frightening.

  “Thanks, Amy. I hope you’re right.”

  After that, we sit quietly for a few moments, then discuss our night and routines like we do on any other night, except without watching the TV. Then we go our separate ways to go to sleep. Maybe I’ll get lucky and Dominic won’t be around tomorrow.

  ***

  I take more time than usual getting ready for my first dance. My hands are shaking and sweating; I’m so nervous. It’s worse than I felt the first night dancing here. Actually, that’s a lie. I wasn’t nervous that night, but I am tonight. All because I have no idea if he’ll be sitting out there, watching me.

  “Angel, you’re up next,” one of the stage guys yells through the door.

  Looking at myself one last time, I decide there’s nothing more I can do. I’m ready—or as ready as I can be.

  Making my way to the stage, I stand to the side and wait for them to call my name. I try to look out into the crowd before I go out, but I don’t see him. That doesn’t mean he’s not here, but he’s not anywhere I’ve looked so far. When I get on stage, I won’t be looking, though, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.

  The DJ announces me and the lights go out, leaving only the spotlight in the middle of the stage. My song comes on as I make my way out to the pole.

  Everything starts off like any other night. I forget about the crowd, feeling the music like an extension of me, and dance with everything I have in my soul.

  I’m stripping my dress off so I’m only in my fancy bra and panties. I move my eyes from left to right, while moving my body sensually. I’m thankful right now that I decided not to do anything fancy with the pole tonight. I just wanted to keep it simple. My mind is too jumbled to do any of the moves I learned. One wrong move and it could be a disaster.

  When I don’t come across his dark eyes and muscular frame, disappointment flushes through me. It’s so strong that my body freezes, but only for a second, then I carry on like any other night. But my heart isn’t in it anymore, and I hate that he’s the reason why.