Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)(40)

I giggled slightly. Adam was protecting my honor. It was sweet. “Don’t worry, men aren’t going to trouble themselves with little old me when there’s women taking off their clothes in front of them,” I said decisively.

Adam gave me a look with furrowed brows. “Just stay here,” he repeated.

I saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

He shook his head and gave a small laugh. His eyes turned slightly sad, and he looked like he was going to say something before someone called him. He gave me a stern look to stay put before he left.

I swirled on my stool, sucking the last of my drink, regarding the scene. Adam was right, the place was packed. Tables full of men crowded the room. Females were peppered throughout these groups, but they were few and far between. It wasn’t exactly the classiest strip club, not that I had much to compare it to. It was dimly lit and the décor and tables dated. Most of the men who worked here were paid extra to convince the waitresses to turn to stripping, and most tried aggressively to get into bed with them. Luckily, Bex didn’t let anyone pressure her into anything, but it didn’t mean I liked the way it was. But it was her choice. She worked here at first to support herself through medical school. Now she just worked here to support herself. Medical school was a distant memory.

“Lily, it’s so good to see you,” a familiar voice drawled.

I inwardly cringed, swiveling on my bar stool.

Bex’s sleazy boss stood in front of me, shamelessly leering. He was wearing black slacks, terrible snakeskin shoes, and a shirt with too many buttons undone. His huge belly protruded over his belt buckle. A tacky gold chain around his neck completed the Sopranos look.

“Tony, so good to see you,” I greeted him with a straight face.

Carlos looked momentarily confused. He wasn’t used to me being so articulate, let alone flippant. His face then turned into a sly grin.

“I’m sure you know by now that it’s Carlos, though, by the looks of it, you’ve indulged in a lot of cocktails, name mix-ups are inevitable,” he nodded to my now empty glass.

I didn’t say anything, merely shrugged my shoulders. I was hoping he’d get bored of me like he normally did.

“When are you going to decide to come and work here?” he asked, stepping into my personal bubble. “You could make a lot more money than you do at that bar. Men like the schoolgirl thing,” he gave me another once over, “the sex kitten thing you’ve got going tonight could make you a lot of money also.” His chubby finger trailed on my bare thigh. “Enough to put you through college and pay any pesky medical bills left over,” he continued, his voice sending shivers down my spine. Not the good ones.

I screwed up my nose, trying not to gag. My insecurities came creeping back in. Vodka only gave me so much bravado, and the fact the creep was touching me when I had no one to back me up, had me retreating back into my shell.

“You wanna keep that hand, I suggest you take it off my woman,” a tight voice cut in.

Both Carlos and my head whipped around. I sagged in relief to see Asher standing close to Carlos, glowering at him his arms crossed. His jaw was hard, and he looked unlike the man who had treated me with tenderness almost two weeks ago, three years ago. He looked dangerous. A man I didn’t recognize stood behind him, face tight. His cut told me he was in the Sons, as did the fact he was huge, muscled, and attractive. I was starting to think it was an entry requirement. Lucky stood beside him. He didn’t look as mad as the rest of them, but his usually carefree face was dangerously blank.

Carlos scowled at them, then his eyes found their cuts and he moved his hands off me quickly, stepping back.

“My apologies, gentlemen. I didn’t know this one was claimed by the Sons of Templar,” Carlos’s tone was pleasant, but his weasel eyes were narrowed on the attractive men like they were insects on his shoe. The way he said the club’s name held something behind it like the words were unpleasant on his forked tongue.

I didn’t think this was an appropriate moment to educate all of them that I wasn’t claimed. I would never be like Gwen and Amy, who could throw sass at their scary bikers and turn them to puppy dogs. I didn’t have enough confidence in myself to throw attitude, to voice my irritation in front of people I didn’t know. Silence was the lesser of two evils right now. Not that being “claimed” by Asher was evil, it was a dream. That was the problem. Dreams were fleeting. Nightmares were more likely to be the reality.

Asher advanced as soon as Carlos retreated, moving to step beside me and put his hand on the back of my neck.

“Now you do,” he murmured dangerously, giving my neck a gentle squeeze.

I relaxed against his simple touch. I hadn’t been near him for almost two weeks, the voice at the other end of the phone had me craving this every day. Now I had it, I didn’t know how I’d live without it. I knew I’d have to, eventually. My drunken mind was all about instant gratification.

“I suggest you take better care of her, considering how dangerous it is to have a girl like that,” he nodded to me, “in places where ... unsavory things could happen to her. You’ve got your own club in Amber, you want her to hang out in strip clubs, may I suggest your own?” he suggested pleasantly, though even I wasn’t oblivious to the threat beneath his words.

The tall one stepped forward, danger seeping off him and Asher’s body went tight beside me, he yanked me closer to his body protectively.