stood up and my knees wobbled from the wine. “I'm going to hit the sack.”
Jenny yawned and nodded. “Me too.”
I stumbled into my room and tripped over a layer of dirty clothes, crashing face first into my bed. I was so exhausted and ready for the night to be over. I closed my eyes and Ace's lean build and tattoos invaded my head. I grinned and blissfully fell asleep.
—
The next morning, I awoke with a spitting headache. The sun blazed through the windows and burned my eyes. I grabbed a pillow and buried my face in it. The memories of last night and Ace came back to me. I reached my hand out and felt around the bed for my phone. I must have left it in my purse at the door. I had to find out if Ace tried to contact me.
I used all the available energy in my body to lift myself up off the bed. I wiped dried drool from my cheek and realized that I fell asleep in the clothes from last night. I took my first step and the room spun, my head jackhammering with a hangover. I used the walls to hold myself up as I made my way down the hallway and to the front door.
My cellphone was right where I left it, in my purse by the door. I turned it on but nothing happened. The screen was blank. My battery obviously ran out and my charger was all the way back in my room. Jenny was in the kitchen cooking some sausages and singing an Ariana Grande song out loud.
She poked her head out. “Want some breakfast, Rachael?” The smell of greasy food almost made me vomit. I groaned and crawled to my bedroom.
I undressed and climbed under the cool bedsheets. I plugged in my phone and turned it on. I waited a few moments—no missed calls. I sighed and pulled the covers over my head. What if Ace never called me?
Chapter Four
Ace
I awoke to a familiar ringing in my head. I drank way too much last night like usual. I laughed to myself silently when I realized that I had fallen asleep on the pool table. I got up and tip-toed over all the guys passed out on the floor and made my way to the bar. I poured myself a small shot of Kentucky whiskey and knocked it back. The ringing slowly faded away and I already felt better.
The image of Rachael's scantily-clad body crossed my mind. Goosebumps formed all over my arms and my morning wood got even harder. I shoved my hands in my pockets, searching. I checked over every inch of my jeans and realized it was in my vest pocket.
I pulled out the crumpled paper that had Rachael's number scribbled on it. I admired the way she signed her name in cursive. I put the paper to my nose and it smelled so much like her. A cross between the ocean and rose petals.
Should I call her right now? What the fuck are you thinking, Ace? You know the rules—don't seem too desperate. I reluctantly put the paper back in my vest and poured another shot of whiskey. Why did this girl have such a hold on me? I should have fucked her already and tossed her to the side.
Hammer fell out of his office, no doubt suffering from the same hangover.
“Crazy night.” He slapped me on the back and drank straight from the bottle of whiskey. Hammer looked at his watch. “It's already past noon. Wake everybody up so we can open.”
The Dark Steel MC opened a restaurant called The Burger Joint to be used as a front to launder money back in the late 1970's. It wasn't supposed to make any money but instead became a destination spot for outlaws to gather. Over the years, the burgers brought in more money than the drugs and guns combined. It was steady and clean—exactly what a perfect front should be.
The back of The Burger Joint was where the Dark Steel MC was headquartered. It was a small double-story warehouse that we transformed into our meeting place. The first floor consisted of pool tables and a bar. The back was a private room where we held our club votes. Upstairs had a few bedrooms—including mine—that members used from time to
Jenny yawned and nodded. “Me too.”
I stumbled into my room and tripped over a layer of dirty clothes, crashing face first into my bed. I was so exhausted and ready for the night to be over. I closed my eyes and Ace's lean build and tattoos invaded my head. I grinned and blissfully fell asleep.
—
The next morning, I awoke with a spitting headache. The sun blazed through the windows and burned my eyes. I grabbed a pillow and buried my face in it. The memories of last night and Ace came back to me. I reached my hand out and felt around the bed for my phone. I must have left it in my purse at the door. I had to find out if Ace tried to contact me.
I used all the available energy in my body to lift myself up off the bed. I wiped dried drool from my cheek and realized that I fell asleep in the clothes from last night. I took my first step and the room spun, my head jackhammering with a hangover. I used the walls to hold myself up as I made my way down the hallway and to the front door.
My cellphone was right where I left it, in my purse by the door. I turned it on but nothing happened. The screen was blank. My battery obviously ran out and my charger was all the way back in my room. Jenny was in the kitchen cooking some sausages and singing an Ariana Grande song out loud.
She poked her head out. “Want some breakfast, Rachael?” The smell of greasy food almost made me vomit. I groaned and crawled to my bedroom.
I undressed and climbed under the cool bedsheets. I plugged in my phone and turned it on. I waited a few moments—no missed calls. I sighed and pulled the covers over my head. What if Ace never called me?
Chapter Four
Ace
I awoke to a familiar ringing in my head. I drank way too much last night like usual. I laughed to myself silently when I realized that I had fallen asleep on the pool table. I got up and tip-toed over all the guys passed out on the floor and made my way to the bar. I poured myself a small shot of Kentucky whiskey and knocked it back. The ringing slowly faded away and I already felt better.
The image of Rachael's scantily-clad body crossed my mind. Goosebumps formed all over my arms and my morning wood got even harder. I shoved my hands in my pockets, searching. I checked over every inch of my jeans and realized it was in my vest pocket.
I pulled out the crumpled paper that had Rachael's number scribbled on it. I admired the way she signed her name in cursive. I put the paper to my nose and it smelled so much like her. A cross between the ocean and rose petals.
Should I call her right now? What the fuck are you thinking, Ace? You know the rules—don't seem too desperate. I reluctantly put the paper back in my vest and poured another shot of whiskey. Why did this girl have such a hold on me? I should have fucked her already and tossed her to the side.
Hammer fell out of his office, no doubt suffering from the same hangover.
“Crazy night.” He slapped me on the back and drank straight from the bottle of whiskey. Hammer looked at his watch. “It's already past noon. Wake everybody up so we can open.”
The Dark Steel MC opened a restaurant called The Burger Joint to be used as a front to launder money back in the late 1970's. It wasn't supposed to make any money but instead became a destination spot for outlaws to gather. Over the years, the burgers brought in more money than the drugs and guns combined. It was steady and clean—exactly what a perfect front should be.
The back of The Burger Joint was where the Dark Steel MC was headquartered. It was a small double-story warehouse that we transformed into our meeting place. The first floor consisted of pool tables and a bar. The back was a private room where we held our club votes. Upstairs had a few bedrooms—including mine—that members used from time to
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