Page 67 of Kane
He sure did. Malcolm did what he wanted, when he wanted, and the needs of his old lady were never high on his list. “I’m gonna try the bar really quick.” Traveling the two blocks to the Watering Hole wouldn’t waste too much time, even if his father wasn’t there.
His mom grabbed a bottle of vodka from the freezer and unscrewed the cap without acknowledging his words. She wasn’t allowed at the Watering Hole. Malcolm found his extra entertainment there.
He felt like an asshole for even mentioning the place, but the damage was already done. He jumped on his Harley and made a beeline for his destination.
About a dozen bikes glinted in a line outside the run-down façade, about par for a Sunday evening. He spotted his father’s right away and pulled up beside it. The strains from an old Metallica song carried through the red wooden door at the entrance.
He stomped through the loose gravel up the three groaning wood steps and forged inside. His eyes burned as he tried to focus through the fog of cigarette smoke, but he fought the urge to squeeze them shut as he executed a slow sweep of the room.
A Coors hanging light illuminated the pool table in a hazy glow. He recognized both of the old guys playing as riders from his dad’s generation. He gave a respectful nod as he passed them by.
A dartboard overlooked two banged-up tables to the right. Two women in skin-tight jeans held court with a couple of guys who were “teaching them” how to toss. It was an old dance where everyone knew damn good and well the lessons were only an excuse to put their hands on each other. Dollars to donuts, all four of them would be gone and getting freaky before the hour was up.
The bartender affectionately dubbed “Hangman” waved him over before he finished his circuit of the dark room. “Can I get you a Bud, boy?” Hangman had to be pushing sixty-five, so the nickname gave no insult.
He shook his head. “Looking for my pops. It’s urgent.”
Hangman raised an eyebrow and scratched his head with his index finger. The movement dislodged a gray strand or two from his ponytail and sent it hanging into his face. He blew it away as he leaned forward on the bar. “He’s back in the storeroom.” His voice climbed as Kane stalked off. “But I wouldn’t go back there right now.”
Whatever. Everyone knew what the storage room was used for here, and it wasn’t to store booze. Besides, it’s not like his father made a secret of his extra-curricular activities.
No, Malcolm getting busy in the back didn’t surprise him. The surprise came from who he was getting busy with. “Is there anyone in my family you haven’t fucked?”
Charlene looked up from the crate where Malcolm had her bent over. Her elbows were propped beneath her, and her tits bounced perilously close to the rough wood. “Why?” she purred. “You jealous?”
Malcolm didn’t even have the decency to stop drilling her. “Get the fuck out, son. I’m busy here.”
It would serve everyone right if he did exactly what his father demanded. Let Scott pay the price for his own arrogance with a night in jail. Let his father come home to a trashed house and what was probably police surveillance. But walking away would also leave Cue Ball and the prospect hanging out to dry, to say nothing of his mom’s sorry state.
No, walking away wasn’t an option. He fixed his gaze somewhere over his father’s right shoulder. “It’s a family emergency.” The words were code for club emergency, as indrop whatever you’re doing and deal with this first.
His father muttered a foul curse, and a moment later, Kane heard him zip up.
“Aren’t we going to finish, baby?” Charlene whined.
“Some other time,” Malcolm growled.
Sure his father was on his heels, he turned away from his ex and got the fuck out of dodge.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Amanda
For the umpteenth time, Amanda glanced at her rearview mirror, searching for the cause of her disquiet. She spotted nothing but normal traffic on the interstate, but really, what did she expect? A vague paranoia had followed her for days, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why.
She’d pissed off two very powerful men in a short period of time. Neither was the type to simply let things slide, so yeah, the other shoe would likely drop soon.
But there was nothing she could do to mitigate any unknown plans Nathan or her father were making. She needed to keep her eyes on the prize. Focus on the new development.
And Kane.
She swiftly rejected the plaintive voice in the back her head begging for a fix to her love life. That way lay dragons.
It had been only thirty minutes since her very productive meeting with Jared Berringer, and he’d essentially given her carte blanche in organizing the build schedule. He’d also promised her input on the marketing campaign starting after the holidays. She had a flash drive in her coat pocket with about a dozen pitches he gave her to review.
Cooper Construction stood poised on the precipice of a huge leap forward. She only had to play her cards right. Start out on the right foot. Consult her team and rely on their expertise. She’d called Xander and two of her other foremen for a meeting right away. They knew better than anyone what expectations were reasonable and what their men could accomplish.