Callie glanced back. “I’m not thumbing my nose at society. I just like the way it feels. And whatever I’m about to do tonight isn’t about society. It’s about me. It’s about…” It was time to be a little vulgar. “It’s about getting laid. Callie Sheppard is on the prowl. What do you know about that bar on the far side of the mountain?”
Jen turned a little green. “Are you talking about Hell on Wheels? The biker bar? Tell me you’re talking about another bar. You want to know what I know about that bar? I know you shouldn’t go there because we’ll never come out alive. I say we because I can’t let you go alone.”
“Don’t be silly. How bad could it be?”
Callie walked into her cabin and hoped she could find some slutty clothes because she intended to find out.
Chapter Six
The sun was just starting to go down over the tops of the mountains when the door to the cabin came open. Zane turned from the back window, surprised at the sight of Nate coming home from work early.
“I’m fine.” Nate slurred every syllable as he stumbled through the door.
Zane felt his eyes widen. There was a tall, angular man trying to help Nate. The man looked to be in his fifties and had a strange hat on his head. It was a trucker hat with tin foil coming out the edges. Now that he looked at it, Nate’s Stetson had foil peeking out of it as well.
“What the hell is going on?” Zane asked.
The tall man took a step back. Zane was used to it. He knew what he looked like. The older man squinted and then slapped Nate on the back. “It’s okay. He seems human.”
Nate smiled beatifically. Damn, he was drunk and still in his uniform. What was going on?
“He’s not human. That’s Zane, Mel. Don’t worry about the frown. He’s a brooder. It’s his thing.”
Mel nodded, as though that made sense somehow. He looked back and forth between him and Nate, seeming to form some sort of opinion. “Well, now I’ve always found it best that couples acknowledge their differences. He’s seems very nice, Sheriff.”
“What?” Zane was having trouble following the conversation. Nate stumbled to the green 1970s refugee couch. It had come with the cabin and opened into one of the most uncomfortable beds Zane had ever tried to nap on. Nate didn’t seem to have the same muscular issues with the couch that Zane had. He pulled his hat off his head and settled it over his face. He didn’t bother to get rid of the foil liner, just let it lay there, covering his mug like a burrito wrapper.
Zane looked to the thin guy. “What is wrong with him? Has he been drinking on the job?”
It wasn’t like Nate. Nate was freaking Captain America. Nate was upstanding and by the book.
Nate looked up from his place on the couch. His fingers fumbled when he tried to lift his hat, and both the Stetson and its tinfoil inner lining rolled away. “Hell, no. I do not drink on the job. I am completely off duty. That’s what happens when a hot little honey steals your squad car. I’m gonna spank her for that, Zane. Stef is right about the discipline thing. Girl needs some discipline. But I ain’t been drinking. I’ve been doing community service. I gotta start fitting into the community. Callie told me to.”
Zane felt his gut clench. Callie? Was Callie the hot honey who needed discipline? And why was Nate talking about it?
Mel was pulling on the quilt that lay on top of the couch. He placed it over Nate, who settled back down with a loopy grin on his face. Mel picked up the hat and made sure the foil was secure. “Don’t you worry about the Sheriff now. We got it all fixed up. He just needs to wear his hat when he’s out, and it’ll be fine. You see, he got probed.”
Nate seemed to think that was hilarious and started laughing, his knees drawing up. “I’ve been probed. Hell, I almost got to probe her. Got so fucking close. It would have felt really good to probe her.”
“I gave him my special tonic. He’ll feel better tomorrow. I drove by the station and got his keys and his phone, but he shouldn’t be driving yet. You’ll see, he’ll be all better in the morning.” Mel was nodding.
Zane didn’t think so. Zane was pretty sure Nate would be in a shit-ass mood tomorrow, probably sooner. Nate had never been able to hold his liquor, but he never stayed drunk for long. He always sobered up fast. And what did he mean by probing her? Was he talking about Callie? “What’s in this tonic? Whiskey?”
Mel nodded. “So you’ve had it before? I make it myself. It keeps the aliens at bay. They can’t metabolize it, so they stay away.”
“Got to get rid of the aliens so I can concentrate on Callie. Can’t let her quit. She’s a good secretary.” Nate sighed like a man who knew what he wanted. “She’s still so pretty, Zane. Her breasts feel so good. And she can kiss. Damn, for a girl so innocent, she tastes like sin. I’m gonna marry her.”
Zane felt the pounding in his head start. He looked down at his best friend in the world. Every time Zane had asked about Callie Sheppard, Nate had shrugged him off, telling him that if he wanted to know he should go see for himself. Bastard. He’d had her all to himself for two weeks. No wonder he spent so much time at the station. Callie was there.
“God, Zane, you have no idea how sweet she is.”
No, he didn’t, and he never fucking would because Nate had taken her without giving him a chance. Not that he had one. His hand went to his face, where the scar ran from the base of his skull all the way down to his jaw. He could still feel the knife splitting his skin. He’d thought nothing could hurt as much as that knife. He’d been wrong.
Zane felt pole axed. His hands were on the keys before he really knew what he was doing.
“Hey, where ya going?” Nate was trying to get up but got caught in the quilt. “Zane, we need to talk. You might say it’s crazy, but I been thinking about something.”
Yeah, Zane bet he’d been thinking about something. He’d been thinking about Callie and how he could steal her. Zane had zero interest in Nate’s thoughts. He turned to Mel, who still looked ridiculous with tin foil covering his head. “You should call his deputy and tell him the sheriff is indisposed.”
“Zane, where ya going?”
“I need a beer.” Zane was out the door in a heartbeat and headed for Hell on Wheels. A beer? He would probably drink a dozen, and it wouldn’t help.
An hour later, he knew he’d been right. He was only into his second beer, and it wasn’t starting to obliterate the image of Nate and Callie. Who was he kidding? And could he really blame Nate?
Fuck, yeah, his inner asshole said. Inner Asshole usually warred with Reasonable Guy. This time Reasonable Guy was perfectly silent. Zane shook his head. Turned out Reasonable Guy had a thing for Callie Sheppard, too. Inner Asshole was spewing some serious venom. Who the hell did Nate think he was? They had agreed that she was off-limits long ago. They had agreed that she deserved better. Maybe Nate had just decided he was better.
Maybe Nate had decided he was sick of putting up with his shit and was ready to move on.
Zane slumped forward, his elbows on the somewhat dirty bar. He called for beer number three. The low light of the dive bar revealed the other patrons. Leather and denim seemed to be the dress code, though some of the women wore bikini tops under their vests. Zane made a quick roll call of the MCs in attendance. The Animals, the Wasters, and The Colorado Horde were there in decent numbers. Zane could tell from the three-piece patches they wore on their leather vests. There were a couple he didn’t recognize, but he wasn’t worried. If someone figured out who he was, they would kill him quick. Now the Barbarians, that was another story.