Free Whiskey Neat (The Uncertain Saints MC Book 1) by Lani Lynn Vale

from a man. If what you say about being his confidant is true, he’ll come to you anyway. But you need to give him time to investigate it before he tells you. It’s embarrassing as hell to find out.”
    I blinked.
    “Someone cheated on you?” I asked softly.
    He nodded once.
    “My wife.”
    “You’re married?” I semi shrieked.
    He snorted. “No, I’m most definitely not married. I’m so far from being married that I can get. At least to that whore.”
    “Shit,” I sighed. “What happened?”
    He shrugged. “The usual.”
    I placed my chin in my hand and looked at him until he sighed.
    “I worked long hours, much like your Remy,” he answered, but I didn’t correct him when he called Remy ‘mine.’ “But my wife thought she was smarter than me and she wasn’t. I found out about two hours after her first time with her now husband, Justin. Waited for her to tell me for about twenty-four hours before I kicked her out.”
    I blinked.
    “That was nice of you to wait twenty-four hours…but were you sure?” I asked.
    He nodded.
    “Came home early from a job to find her and the man in our fucking bed, going at it so loudly that I swore my neighbors could hear,” he said, nodding to Fran as she placed two glasses of water down in front of us. He waited for her to move out of earshot before he continued. “Was able to watch the whole damn thing without them even knowing. Got his name and info while they took a nap. Called his wife to let her know what was going on. Made myself a sandwich.”
    My eyes widened the more detailed he got.
    “And they didn’t hear all of that?” I asked, dumfounded.
    He shook his head. “Nope. Not a single thing. She came out of our bedroom about two hours after I’d arrived home and froze.”
    My eyes were getting wider and wider.
    “What’d you do?” I asked.
    “Nothing. Acted like I didn’t know a thing. I said, ‘ Hey baby. How was your nap? ’” He said.
    My mouth fell open.
    “And she still didn’t tell you?” I gasped.
    He shook his head.
    “So how did they get him out?”
    We both paused as we gave our orders to Fran, and I turned back to him and snapped my fingers.
    He grinned.
    “That was the funny part. Our room was on the second story. So I watched on the surveillance as he tried to shimmy down the lattice outside our room.” He laughed then, and I smiled.
    “He hurt himself, didn’t he?” I whispered conspiratorially.
    He nodded.
    “Broke his leg. But damned if that fucker didn’t crawl the fuck away. I show the video from time to time to my friends who don’t believe me,” he answered. “I also threaten to give it to the press from time to time, too.”
    I blinked.
    “The press?” I asked.
    He inclined his head.
    “He’s a Texas state senator.”
    I leaned forward until my chest hit the edge of the table.
    I was nearly stretched out over the top of it.
    “Senator Justin Hayes is the man that your wife cheated on YOU with? He’s uglier than my Uncle Murral,” I whisper yelled at him as I slapped my hand down on the table in shock.
    He shuddered.
    “Yeah, that’s him.”
    “Wait a cotton-picking minute,” I said, recalling a story that’d been in the paper last week. The same day I’d seen a paper clutched in Griffin’s hand as he angrily stormed out of the diner. “It was your son.”
    His eyes closed.
    “Yeah, that was my baby.”
    My eyes instantly welled up in realization of all that this poor man had been through.
    “Oh, Griff. I’m so sorry.”
    He lifted a shoulder indifferently, but I knew he was affected.
    Now I knew exactly what had caused that ‘just-don’t-give-a-fuck’ attitude that seemed to envelope him most of the time.
    He’d lost his little boy.
    From what I’d read in that article, it had been reported that the little boy was shot outside of his school and that it appeared to have been intentional.
    Dear God, someone had murdered Griffin’s son!

Chapter 7
    Dear teenagers complaining about life: