Free Outlaw Road (A MC Romance) by Nora Flite, Adair Rymer Page A

little scuff up from a card game?
    A rigged card game. One that I fucking won!
    Everything was coming down around me. With a vote from some assholes that I barely knew, the only thing that mattered to me was ripped away!
    I threw a punch into the nearest wall. Pulling my dusty hand from the drywall, I expected a shout of protest or a whine from Roach, but he must've fucked off while I was on the phone. That was fine by me, I didn't need his grief right now.
    I brushed the plaster off my arm and my now worthless vest. After a moment, I searched Roach's desk. There was a forth of Jim Beam in the bottom drawer. I took the sad bottle and found a table and chair to sit at. Although it wouldn't be nearly enough, the bourbon was at least a good start,
    How could they do this to a brother?
    That's it, project. It's everyone else's fault, right? My PTSD counselor's unwelcome, vaguely-patronizing drawl was a piss-soaked blanket that I couldn't peel off my mind. As much as I tried to ignore the memories of all the lets-talk-about-our-feelings-and-cry sessions from people that had never seen a day of actual war, some of the truths that bubbled to the surface were just too raw to dismiss.
    After leaving the Army, this club was the only thing that has made sense. That feeling of camaraderie, of being part of something bigger. It's what got me into the military in the first place. And now, for the second time, I'd thrown it all away.
    I tried to drown that rawness with whiskey, draining the bottle in big, molten sips. I hadn't eaten much, so the blessed numbing started setting in right away.
    It didn't take long to finish the bottle, not that I was in a rush, really. Time crawled by. Fortunately, I had my demons and failures to keep me company as I sat alone in the foyer and reflected on my past.
    My only solace was the fact that I wouldn't be left in the wind for long. One way or another, this whole fucking mess was temporary. Either I found a way back under the Steel Veins' protection, or someone with a score to settle would catch me with my guard down and that'd be the end of that.
    A hard rain loomed above me.
    The alcohol drained, I sent the bottle gliding off the table. The tough glass thudded against the floor, still very much intact, before spiraling into the kitchen. I found myself grinding my palm into my forehead, as if I could push the doubt out of my mind manually. There was no escaping the truth of it all. My excuses were see through and stretched thinner than plastic wrap.
    What the fuck was I thinking? I scolded myself. I should've walked away with Repo, but no, I was too blinded, like always .
    I was so full of shit that the smell of the lies nauseated me. Duty may have brought me to that meeting, but Poet was right. My pride forced me to stay.
    Sometimes it was so damn hard to call it like it was. There was no honor in the way I fought for Flora, just self-serving pettiness. I'd saved her for all the wrong reasons. I couldn't let a slight against me go unpunished, and I'd used her as an excuse.
    Because of that, both of us would suffer.
    “What the fuck, Ronin!” Roach burst into the room from the kitchen and looked over the damages.
    “Nah, fuck...” I wiped the water from my eyes before he could see. Fishing out a stack of twenties, I tossed it on his desk. I had no idea how much I gave him, it was probably too much, but I didn't care. It was only money. “Sorry, Roa— Sorry.”
    He ran a hand over his thinning hair and grumbled something under his breath. His inspection complete, he walked to his desk with another half empty bottle of Jim Beam. Roach snatched up the money, flipping through it with the dexterity of an aging con man. Begrudgingly satisfied with the amount, he tossed me the bottle.
    Within a few seconds I had the cap off, eagerly pulling swigs. I just wanted to drown in a waterfall of bourbon.
    He lingered, then sighed and awkwardly asked, “Bad news, huh?”
    Roach wasn't a friend, not that I had