Page 23 of Live Love Steal

“He’s of better use where he’s at now.” Enforcer status suited him. I parked the car. “I’m going to go talk to Wolf. Iz?” I held out my hand to help her out of the car, but she ignored it.

She stood up and looked around the lot. “I’ve been here before.”

Bear raised an eyebrow at me. The insinuation was, “See? She’s one of those girls, and you weren’t there first.” And shit. If she partied here, I definitely wouldn’t have been the first brother to hit on her.

“Do you still have that ’67 Karmann Ghia?”

Ah, the chick magnet… or it should have been one. “Silver?” I asked. And then revised my question, “and rust.”

Bear snorted.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Isobel brushed me off.

“Lady, it was a piece of shit that had holes in the floorboards where someone tried to brake too hard and their feet went through the underpanels,” Bear laughed as he spoke.

That wasn’t its only issue. “Not to mention the wiring.”

“What was wrong with the wiring?” Isobel asked.

“Chewed by rats. I think some of them still live in it.” Bear was having a great time baiting her. I should put an end to that. And no, that wasn’t jealousy talking.

“You still have it?”

“When were you here?” Bear asked.

“About six years ago with my father.”

That explained a lot. I shot Bear an I-told-you-so look and jumped into the conversation. “About that long ago, I tried restoring that bitch. Trust me, it ain’t worth it.”

“Didn’t you dump about eight grand into that piece of shit?”

“Shut up.”

Bear belly laughed. He wiped a fake tear from his eye just to rub it in. My club brothers teased me for months straight about that stupid project. I finally ran out of money and admitted defeat.

It sat near the back of the lot. Collecting more rust and probably more rats.

“A car like that…” Isobel trailed off.

I pointedly looked at the Kia, which was a clone of hers. “How in the hell did you end up with one of those?”

She took offense. “I could afford it.”

That… I couldn’t argue with, much. “Your dad could fix up any car you wanted.”

“But I wouldn’t ask him to.”

Bear’s hand landed hard on my shoulder. “You have a president to talk to. I’ve got a whiskey calling my name, and Iz here is coming with me.”

Fuck.

Time to face the music.

“I can stay out here,” Isobel offered.

Bear interjected, “No. You’re coming with me. Maybe Smoke is here to watch you. But until we get your car back, you’re our guest.”

“Your prisoner, you mean?”