“When did you start crushing on Sam?”
“What?” Something like panic flickered across his skin. “I’m not. I don’t. Whatever.”
Tango snorted. “Admit it. You’re hot for teacher.”
“Am not.”
“Right.” He rolled his eyes. “AndI’mthe one in denial.”
Four
“Fisher’s coke,” Ghost said, setting the blue-spotted baggie on the clubhouse bar. His expression was grim. “This was all you found?”
“Yeah,” Tango said.
“I’m gonna try to track down that Jesse kid Erin mentioned, give him a little shake and see what falls out,” Aidan said with a smirk.
Ghost nodded. “Don’t put a mark on him. And don’t talk to him in front of a security camera anywhere.”
“Yeah.” Standard procedure; one of the few things he could manage not to fuckup.
“Talk to Ratchet, too. Get him to put his ear to the ground, see if he hears anything. If anybody knows we’re short a dealer, it’ll make sense they try to step in and take his place.”
“The guy selling his stuff,” Tango said, biting at his lip, “has gotta be the guy who killed him.”
“I’d put money on it,” Ghost said. He pushed away from the bar. “Keep me posted, boys. I’ve gotta go tell that jackoff who’s bugging Holly to rent a truck already and get the hell out, before Michael turns him into Ares’s dinner.”
Hearing his name, the German shepherd stood up from his bed and stretched.
“Come on, boy,” Ghost called to the dog, and the two of them left the clubhouse, Ares’s nails clicking over the floorboards.
“Sam’s really alright with you….” Tango made an elaborate hand gesture, which Aidan took to meanroughing her sister’s boyfriend up.
“Actually, yeah. I think she is. That’s what she said this morning, anyway.” He was having another mug of tea with honey and peppermint, because as always, Walsh was right about everything, and the stuff was helping disperse the last of his hangover. “Morning. Christ. Is it even noon yet?”
“Nope.”
“Awesome start to the day we’ve had.”
Except he’d gotten to see Sam, and that had been a small bright spot in an otherwise dark stretch of time.
“What are you gonna do now?” Tango asked, and Aidan knew he wasn’t talking about Jesse Whatshisface and Fisher’s coke.
He took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “Right now, I’m gonna go find Jazz and apologize. Then I’m gonna…who the hell knows.”
Tango nodded. “I’ll go with you.”
Jasmine’s Toyota piece of crap was in the parking lot, so she was around somewhere. But she wasn’t in the clubhouse, and Maggie said she hadn’t sent her off on any kind of errand. They were walking past the bike shop, and Aidan was thinking he needed to clock in, when he heard her voice floating out of the garage bays.
She laughed and said, “No way.”
The voice that answered her belonged to Carter.
Aidan halted and glanced over his shoulder at Tango. The guy had stilled, tension locking him in place, eyes swiveling toward the shadowed garage. Emotions warred across his face: regret, anger, jealously, sadness.
“Bro,” Aidan said softly. “If you don’t want him messing with her, then kick his ass. Mark your territory.”
Tango stared trance-like at the shop. “I just want her to be happy,” he murmured.
