Free Have Gun, Will Travel (The Bare Bones MC Book 5) by Layla Wolfe

good, but there’s a meeting coming up. I’ve got to go to Nogales. Then I have to fly to New York City. Then there’s a conference in Vegas.’ Some fucking roller blade show. He just bought a fucking World War Two tank and he’s getting into driving that around in parades.”
    I frowned. “Roller…skating?”
    Maddy rolled her eyes. “No, rollers, those big pieces of equipment that flatten out the street. Blades, those big pieces of equipment that—”
    “I think I get it.” But I really had no solution for her. I was hardly a fucking relationship expert, having blown the few ones I’d had. It looked like I might inadvertently be blowing mine with Roscoe now, too. He actually hadn’t returned the past four voicemails I’d left for him, and I’d texted some light-hearted observations, some funny, cute, or BDSM-y links I’d thought were interesting. Nothing. I couldn’t begin to imagine how he’d react when I told him my collar had broken. He liked to yell how stupid I was, how everything was my fault. That was his particular style of domination, to make me feel low and small, like I had no other choice than to pick him.
    That was actually nothing new, him not returning my calls. It was his way of letting me know that he dominated me , not the other way around, as he’d explained many times. He wasn’t at my beck and call. Literally, he didn’t jump when I said jump.
    I had no savvy or soothing advice for Maddy, and I was glad when the door to the game room opened and the Pure and Easy Prospect, Wolf Glaser, entered. I brightened. Wolf was a funny, positive, upbeat sort of guy. Even though he’d just buried three rivals in one fell swoop a few months ago during a stash house raid, he was still a Prospect because he annoyed the crap out of most patch holders. I mean, I personally enjoyed his sunny outlook. But I could see where trying to get any work accomplished while still looking cool would be hard around the overly-enthusiastic Prospect who seemed to derive his methods from various procedural cop shows.
    He clanked when he moved, like some people I’d seen in BDSM clubs. We called that “Utility Belt Syndrome” when they jangled like a car crash because they had so many dildos, anal vibes, cock rings, and nipple clamps chained to D-rings on their belts. Instead, Wolf Glaser had a Taser, flashlight, handcuffs, cuff keys, gun holster, magazine pouches, radio, and baton, in case he had to beat a bad guy to the ground. He was probably a wannabe cop who had somehow landed in the biker world, but he was an all right guy. Maddy seemed to like him.
    “Hey, my favorite old lady,” gushed Wolf, giving Maddy a bear hug from behind. Then he looked at me. “And my second favorite old lady. Your old man is in with Ford still. They’ve called for me to join in. I wonder what they want.”
    “I’m not Sax’s old lady. But I’m flattered you think so. We only just met yesterday.”
    Wolf wiggled his eyebrows. “Good. Then you’re still up for grabs? Fancy a lowly Prospect with an awesome future in the parts shed? You need a tailpipe for a John Deere excavator, I’m your man.”
    Maddy asked, “You’re still working in the parts shed here? Well, maybe once you become fully patched they’ll let you work in one of the other companies.”
    Wolf looked bitter. “Tuxedo rental’s not my style. I don’t like watching other people go off to have fun at proms. Nope. I’m the guy having fun at proms, pinning corsages, doing the Wiggle and the Whip!”
    Wolf executed some Pee Wee Herman-type of ballet dance moves I’d never seen before. Not that I would be familiar with popular dances. Since leaving the convent, the only club I’d been to was The Racquet Club in Flag, and there wasn’t much dancing going on there, unless you counted the horizontal kind.
    “Listen,” said Maddy, interrupting Wolf in the middle of him miming driving a laid-back gangsta car. “I need to talk to Ford about something. If he