Train's Clash (Biker Bitches 4) - Page 102

The men ate as their wives were drawn into a conversation with Killyama while making their plates. When they didn’t come to the table where the men had saved them a seat, the men tried to eavesdrop on their conversation, but their low discussion was hard to hear.

“Rider, go see what they’re talking about?” Viper encouraged, staring at Winter, who held Aisha, not making any attempt to join him.

“I’m eating. Make Train. It’s his fault Killyama is here and they’re listening to her.”

Train started to get up, but then sat back down at Viper’s glare and Killyama asking him if he wanted anything.

“I was going to get another cup of coffee.”

“I’ll get that for you,” Lily offered.

The men’s table went silent as Lily refilled his cup, bringing it to him and then hurrying back to where the women were talking.

“Why didn’t you ask Lily what they’re talking about?” Train whispered out of the corner of his mouth to Shade.

“Because I’m clearly the only one at this table who has a dick, and I’m not worried about what they’re talking about.”

When Killyama said something to Rachel and Winter that had them arguing, Lily hushed them. Four pairs of eyes turned to the table where they were sitting before resuming what they were talking about with lowered voices.

“This is bad.” Cash was the closest to the counter, but his back was turned to it. He leaned back in his chair until it only had two legs on the floor, trying to overhear the conversation.

“Can you hear anything?”

“I thought you weren’t worried?” Train asked Shade.

“I’m not. I’m just curious.”

“Then walk your curious ass behind the kitchen counter and see what they’re talking about,” Viper snapped.

Rider started to get up. “Jesus, I’ll do it.”

“You need anything, Rider?” Killyama asked irritably.

“Uh … Is there any bacon left?”

“No, it’s all gone.”

“Never mind, then.”

Train and the rest of the men at the table blasted Rider with a look, causing him to hide behind his coffee cup.

“Killyama, I thought you were supposed to meet T.A.?”

Train didn’t know which brother kicked him under the table, but it hurt like a motherfucker.

“She texted to tell me she’s running late. Finish your breakfast.”

Killyama’s sharp response had him scooting his chair backward from the table, out of range from another kick.

“Yes, ma’am.” Train found it hard to choke down his late bite.

“I’ll give you another ten percent of the company if you break up with her. I’ll even let you pick which woman you want here. You like Dawn? She hasn’t been here in a while.” Viper’s cajoling voice dropped to a whisper as the women finally started toward their husband’s sides.

“I’ll give you my truck. I know how much you want it.” Cash barely managed to stop from falling backward as Rachel moved by him to take a seat.

Train nearly jumped out of his chair when Killyama placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I have to go.”

He was conscious of the brothers listening to every word.

“I get off at four. Am I going to see you tonight?”

Viper’s and Cash’s scowls had him wishing he had texted her that question after she left.

“Nope. T.A., Crazy Bitch, and I are spending the night in Berea, Ohio. We have tickets for the first two days of the Cleveland Brown’s training camp. A few of the players are looking forward to seeing us again. They’re going to introduce us to some of the rookies. One of the players offered to pay for our hotel room tonight. It might be a couple of days before I see you again. We won’t back for three days. Could be longer if we can score another ticket for the third day of training.”

Train frowned.

When she started to move away, he caught her hand. “Aren’t you going to give me a kiss before you leave?”

Laughing, she patted him on the back. “You’re so cute when you’re being silly.”

She started toward the swinging door before changing her mind and going to the counter. All of the men’s eyes watched her as Killyama picked up a brightly colored pink box, and then went to the refrigerator to take out a plastic container, stacking it on the pink box. Closing the fridge with her hip, she then opened a drawer, pulling out his six-pack beer cozy, dangling it from her pinky.

“I almost forgot my stuff,” she said, beaming proudly that she hadn’t forgotten her pilfered items.

“Is that the rest of my birthday cake and the pork chop casserole Stori saved me for lunch?” He didn’t mention the cozy, knowing he would never see it again.

“Yes, you have a problem with that?” Glaring at him, she stopped by his chair.

“No.” If he hadn’t felt the heavy metal of the skull and crossbones buckle on his belt, he would have been tempted to make sure it was still there.

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