Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
It feels good to be with my brothers again. For a little while at least, I don’t think about Brice, but that doesn’t last. The first attractive professional that sidles up next to me and gives me a charming smile immediately makes me think of my former fiancée. This woman’s pretty, but she’s not Brice. None of them are Brice. “Thanks, but I’m fine,” I say and dismiss the woman with a nod. She shrugs and moves on to someone else.
Gareth appears at my elbow with Ford. “What do you think?” the lawyer asks. “This place hasn’t changed a bit.”
“I doubt it ever will,” Ford says. “The Oak’s mystical. It’s eternal.”
“That’s some deeply spiritual shit coming from you, Ford,” I say, grinning at him.
He winks and shrugs. “I can be very deep.”
“The only thing you’re ever deep in is some expensive pu—”
“Okay, enough of that,” Gareth says interrupting my extremely tasteful and hilarious joke.
Lanzo joins us and clinks his glass against mine. “Heard you nearly got hitched, brother. What happened?”
I glance at Gareth who is busy glaring death at Lanzo. I’m guessing Gareth told everyone not to mention Brice, but it’s hard to keep Lanzo on a leash. The hacker’s the definition of chaotic and he’ll do what he wants, say what he wants, and go where he wants whenever he wants, and the rest of us can go fuck ourselves. I respect it and even enjoy it, except for when it cuts me.
Lanzo’s also one of the most loyal men I’ve ever met and of everyone in our little group, he’s the one I know would take a bullet for me without hesitation. The others might complain about it first.
“Things didn’t work out,” I say evasively.
“Did she realize you’re a piece of shit and walk?” Lanzo leans closer, grinning. “Come on, you can tell me. Did she see all the skeletons in your closet and decide that being mobbed up isn’t all that great? Okay, based on the look on your face, that’s pretty much it. Want me to ruin their lives? Betcha I can get her father arrested again.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m sure he’s busy doing that himself.”
Lanzo shrugs as Evander comes over. “Hey, big guy, you drunk yet?”
Evander laughs, deep and booming, like distant drums. “I don’t get drunk. Not like you little boys.”
“This is the only guy in the world that could get away with calling us little boys,” Gareth mutters, which is a good point.
“You know, Evander, I hear your family’s been doing some big things up in Chicago,” I say and give him a sly smile. “Keep it up and I might even want to get into business with you.”
Evander slaps my back and slams his glass into mine as he throws his drink down his throat and shouts at the bartender for more alcohol. “Where the fuck are the women?” he says and his voice echoes all through the club. “Come on, I want something pretty on my arm and a nice pair of lips around my cock before this night’s over.”
“Evander’s in a mood,” Lanzo says, eyes shining. “I like it.”
“Well, shit, I’d better make sure he doesn’t kill someone,” Ford says, grinning from ear to ear. The prospect of watching Evander tear this place to pieces is too tempting for the poor bastards. We’ll probably get thrown out—again—but they won’t revoke our membership. They never do. Like Ford said, the Oak is eternal. Once you’re in, you’re in.
Gareth sighs and goes with them. “I have a feeling these idiots are going to need a good lawyer before the night’s over.” Lanzo stays behind with me and we remain at the bar together, not saying much of anything, only watching as Evander finds the smallest girl in the entire place and dances with her. The height difference is hilarious and crazy, but she seems into him and I kind of think he’ll get that blowjob sooner rather than later.
“I really am sorry about how shit worked out,” Lanzo says and glances at me. He sounds pensive, which is unlike him. “With the girl, I mean.”
“We don’t have to talk about it.” Which is a nice way of saying fuck off, please.
“She’s a good one, you know. I mean, based on the research I did, anyway. And I did a real deep dive on her.” He whistles and shakes his head. “Seriously, she’s the squeakiest clean of the squeaky clean, never seen anything like it before.”
I glance away, down the bar toward where that redhead’s still making eyes at me, but the lustful stare slides off my shoulders like water. She’s a fucking pro and she knows what she’s doing but I can’t seem to care, even knowing I could take her home and have her right now if I wanted. It means absolutely nothing.