by C. M. Owens
She glares defiantly up at me, making me actually miss the days she was scared of me.
“No. What the hell is your problem?”
“This is my fucking problem!” I gesture between her and Drake, and she cocks an eyebrow at me. “The hell are you doing with him?”
She actually fucking smiles. “Are you jealous?”
Drake chokes on a laugh but smothers it quickly while turning away. Dash covers his mouth to hide his smile.
Eve continues to beam up at me, and I curse while stepping back.
“Come on. I’m taking you home.” Still careful not to touch her, I motion for her to walk out, but she just crosses her arms over her chest as her smile dies.
“No. I work here. And last I checked, you kicked me out of your life, so you no longer have a say in what I do.”
I groan again while scrubbing my face with my hands. She fucking works here? Hell no. Someone is getting their ass kicked for not telling me this shit.
“Your girl is badass. Didn’t know she was an artist,” Drake goes on. The buzzing resumes as he goes back to tattooing the douchebag in the chair.
Eve stiffens, and I cock my head to the side. She’s an artist?
“I’m not his girl anymore,” she says quietly, clearing her throat as she pulls her shirt up her arm to cover the tattoo she apparently has exposed when I’m not around.
I tug the sleeve back down to let it hang, and her breath hitches at the touch. Groaning, I try to pull my hand back, but it decides to trace the lines of my name on her instead.
She looks up at me, leaning into the touch, and I slide my other hand down to her waist, pulling her closer. She doesn’t fight me. Instead, she lets me tug her all the way to my body before I lift her up and crush my lips against hers.
Her legs immediately wrap around my waist, and she moans into my mouth as her fingers tangle in my hair. I walk her back into the room with the couch, and she stays in my lap as I drop down, sitting on the sofa.
When she grinds against me, I start tugging at the button on her tight little shorts, ready to be buried inside her to remind everyone in this fucking place she’s mine.
Then it slams back to me, and I curse while breaking away from the kiss and dropping the button I just got undone.
“Fuck! Why the fuck did you have to work with Drake?” I growl, trying and failing to force myself to push her away from me.
“Because I needed a job where I fit in. Something that didn’t make me miserable. I love it here,” she says softly, leaning forward to kiss me again.
I barely miss her lips, and I finally manage to stand and dump her onto the couch in one motion. She glares up at me.
“Hot and cold. Why even kiss me if you don’t fucking want me anymore?”
That mouth on her has gotten braver. That’s for damn sure. Of course, working here for a week has probably helped with that.
I wish that mouth was doing something much more productive than bitching at me. I also wish… I wish a lot of things. Doesn’t change anything.
Adjusting my painfully hard cock in my jeans, I turn around and walk back into the room where Drake is finishing up and smiling at me again.
“Touch her and I’ll put you in the bed beside Jessie.”
That kills his smile instantly.
“I’d never do what he did, and you fucking know it,” he snarls.
“Didn’t say you would. I’m saying if you touch her at all. Understand?”
His lips twitch when he no longer feels insulted.
“So you don’t want me but no one else can have me?”
Damn her.
I turn to see Eve glaring at me, and it makes me want to just kill Drake to save myself the hassle of worrying about this.
“You want him?” I ask, getting right in her face. She has no idea how close I am to fucking her on the floor to prove a damn point.
“No. I want you. But you know this already. Doesn’t mean you get to threaten someone I might want later on when I finally take the fucking hint you’re done.”
Not even going to admit how sick that makes me to even think about. No one better touch her. Not if they want to keep walking. I don’t care if he’s a saint who saves children from starvation. If he wants to keep his dick, then it’ll stay out of my girl, even I can’t have her.
She can have a vibrator or something. I’ll buy it.
“I’m not fucking you,” Drake immediately points out. “Sorry, sweetie. Not even your pretty ass is worth that man’s rage. I’m all about flower power. Not violence.”
I glare over my shoulder at Drake, knowing the asshole is just mocking me at this point. Dash has to walk away before he actually laughs.
Fucker.
Eve continues to seethe, and I continue to make an ass out of myself by even being here. Instead of doing something I’ll regret—like taking her back to the couch—I turn and walk out the door.
I need a fucking drink.
Chapter 15
EVE
“You’re like a little miracle doll,” Drake tells me as I finish cleaning up all his equipment.
I get to design, and I get to earn more money by doing all the things that eat up a lot of his time—like clean, run the register, hand out aftercare instructions, make appointments, answer the phone… The list is ridiculous.
“I don’t know how you’ve been doing it alone for so long.”
He shrugs. “I had help for a couple of years, but he branched out and created his own business. Even stole some of my clients when Drex and I had a falling out.”
I tilt my head as he opens the door, and stand under the awning when I walk out while he finishes locking up. One of the Death Dealer guards loads up on his bike, despite the rain, and heads out onto the road.
“Cecil,” he elaborates.
I’ve heard them mention the phantom tattoo artist.
“Gotcha. So why haven’t you hired someone else?” I ask as he walks me out to his car.
It’s raining, so we’re not taking his bike tonight. I’m grateful he lives close to where I’m staying, since he can give me a ride every day.
He answers as soon as we get inside, and I move some of my wet hair away from my face.
“Because I have to trust someone I hire. You’ve heard how those guys just rattle on while I’m inking them up. Especially the ones waiting their turn.”
He’s right. It’s amazing how much they run their mouths in front of me there when they were zip-lipped in front of me at the warehouse. I’ve learned more about the Death Dealers while working in the shop for the past week and a half than I ever learned about them when I lived amongst them.
It’s weird.
But every time someone mentions Drex being a loose cannon, they always let their eyes drift toward me as though they’re waiting on me to comment. And I always feel that void in my chest ache a little harder with each mention of the man who has marked me for life in so many ways.
“I see how that could be tricky.”
He nods. “I’m neutral ground. If I trust someone, they trust them. I don’t act like I hear anything, and I keep my mouth shut. Anyone I hire has to be able to do the same, hence the reason you’re a godsend. Just that ink—which you wisely show off—gives you automatic trust. Drex wouldn’t just let any girl walk around with his name and his club’s logo, and I wouldn’t ink it on anyone without his direct consent.”
The small skull with a grim reaper outline is the background for the text. Drake made it look amazing. But it’s meaningful to me. Or at least it was. Drex didn’t just have the generic DD put on my inner wrist. He gave me something special, something that meant something to him.
“It’s weird how they treat me differently here than they did there,” I sigh. “Things might have been different for Drex and me if everyone hadn’t acted like they wanted me dead all the time.”
He snorts while rolling his eyes, driving slower when the rain starts to pummel the Mustang.
“It’
s because there, you were suspicious. You were new to the group, and Drex kept you hidden away most of the time, from what I heard. At my place, you’re out in the open, I’m neutral ground and happen to value my life. In other words, if they talk about shit in front of us and you leak it, I have to suffer the same fate as you.”
I’m not even afraid when he announces that, because I know Drex wouldn’t allow anything to happen to me. I wouldn’t talk, and he wouldn’t let them just assume I had.
But then something does hit me pretty damn hard.
“Holy shit,” I blurt out, and Drake slams on the brakes, sending us skidding across the road while the rear fishtails.
“What?” he barks when he regains control of the vehicle.
“No. No. Nothing in the road.”
“You don’t say something like that when a man is driving in the rain! Damn it, woman. Are you crazy?”
“Maybe a little crazy, but that’s beside the point. I just realized something. Cecil.”
He curses as he leans up on his steering wheel to see better.
“What about him?”
“Cecil disappeared for a ‘family’ thing right before all the fed issues and he hasn’t come back. The guys have been pouring in to replace their appointments they had with him.”
“I fucking know that. Bastard. You have any idea how hard it is to pencil in a bunch of impatient assholes when you have a six-month waiting list?”
“Yes, I do. I’m the one penciling them in for you, but it’s easier since all the Hell Breather appointments have been cancelled. That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“The point is that Cecil heard all the same chatter you did. They talk, but not about specifics.”
“The ones talking don’t know specifics. Only Drex’s and Herrin’s inner circles know the details of shit.”
“Drex was on the phone one day when we were at his house—before the big bang incident—and he alluded to the fact the mole was someone without the details. Cecil is out of town. General pieces of information have been spilled… Cecil is the mole. Not one of the crew.”
He slows the car to almost a stop, pulling off on the shoulder as cars go by. As soon as he puts it in park, he turns to face me.
“You realize an allegation like that could get him killed. What if you’re wrong?”
“I didn’t say I was going to call Drex and tell him. I was just working it out. It makes sense. Any chance Cecil was in trouble with the law and would rollover on the Death Dealers to get out of a sentence?”
He purses his lips. “Cecil has a bad habit of gambling. If anything, he’s in trouble with loan sharks. Not feds.”
My stomach roils. “Loan sharks like Benny works for?”
His eyes widen, and he curses again. “But why would he leak to the feds instead of leaking to Benny?”
“He would have leaked to Benny. I heard Drex mentioning that Benny’s crew had info they shouldn’t have. Even you told him the Hell Breathers knew about the cars and stuff.”
“Drex talked a lot in front of you. That’s not common. You shouldn’t be telling me this stuff, because he trusts you.”
“And I trust you,” I remind him. “You were willing to risk your own life to keep me safe from the Death Dealers once. I doubt you’re going to try and get them to kill me now.”
He shrugs like I have a point, taking this all too casually.
“Benny would want Drex out of the way if he wants that business. Think about it. It’s less risky, it’s obviously profitable, and if they had a warrant and could raid at the right time, all those details would be filed as evidence—client lists, equipment, basically a how-to guide to take over. I know Drex has an FBI informant. Benny probably has one of his own, or knows someone who does. It’d be the smartest way to get that info without starting a war.”
He blows out a long breath while sagging back in his seat.
“That’s fucking beautiful. You should be in charge of all shady shit from now on. But you’re forgetting one simple thing.”
“Which is?”
“Benny Highland has the IQ of a fucking dog. He wags his tail and chomps his teeth. He doesn’t have the brain power to launch something this massive into play. This is something Drex would be capable of if the roles were reversed, but Benny is a fucking dumbass.”
True.
I sink down in my seat, playing over the variables in my head.
“I’ve been trying to figure out where I fit into this entire equation from the beginning, and none of it has ever made sense. Benny hasn’t bothered with me since Drex got me. It really was as simple as handing me over as a gift for peace and information. There was no masterful plan behind the action, so I see how that would contradict him crafting up something so elaborate.”
He seems to be thinking as he stares out the windshield, taking in the rainy road ahead. After a beat, he finally speaks again.
“Cecil… I wouldn’t put it past him. He turned on me when he took half my client list. He definitely wouldn’t hesitate to turn on the Dealers if someone promised to keep him safe. Especially if he owed a lot of money to the wrong people.”
Just as I start to concoct another theory, my body is jolted hard, and the sound of glass shattering is barely audible over the roar of some vicious engine. My breath catches in my lungs as the sensation of weightlessness hits me, and it’s then I realize the car is flipping as everything blurs around me.
Drake yells my name, but I’m jarred again as the seatbelt catches me, anchoring me to my seat like a heavy arm slamming into my chest and clamping down against my waist as a roar and the sound of whining metal fight for dominance. The taste of blood settles in my mouth, and my ears are ringing when the car finally skids to a halt on its roof.
Grass and mud is all I see as my body tries to relax in my upside-down position. Everything aches.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around what happened when my eyes see a few pairs of boots come into view, walking toward my side.
My head jerks toward Drake, but he’s upside down and hopefully just unconscious, because his eyes are shut and he’s not moving. I look around for anything to use as a weapon, but nothing is in sight other than random, useless things.
Someone kneels in front of the shattered window at my side, and my lungs freeze with my heart when a familiar face dips into view.
“There you are, Eve. Been looking for you.”
Chapter 16
DREX
I glance at my phone, wondering why Axle hasn’t called yet. Eve should be home by now. She should have been home an hour ago, actually. I’ve asked for daily updates since that little surprise nearly pushed me over the edge.
I swear I will fucking castrate Drake—that motherfucker—if he even thinks about taking her to his house. I’ve been ready to beat the hell out of him since I found out Eve was working for him. The only thing keeping me sane is that they’re only alone for the short trips to and from work. The rest of the time, I have eyes on them.
Cursing, I get out of bed, stretching and groaning. It’s been a long fucking day, and I’m not used to being up so much during the actual daylight hours. Unfortunately, I don’t sleep much anymore.
Finally, I get sick of waiting, so I call Axle. He answers almost immediately.
“Gotta call you back, man.”
“The hell you do. What’s going on?”
“Seriously, Drex, I can’t talk right now. Got blues all over and trying to get close enough to find out what happened.”
A prickling sensation assaults my back like thousands of tiny needles are all jabbing in at once.
“Axle, what the fuck?” I growl, while grabbing a shirt to pull on.
“Don’t come out here, Drex. Just stay put. We’ll call you the second we can get close enough to talk to Drake without blues noticing us.”
Bile rises to my throat as I sling my door open, carrying my boots in my hand as I jog down the stairs.
“Axle, where are y—”
All the background noise cuts out, letting me know the line just went dead, and I refrain from slamming my phone against the wall. He just kept saying Drake. Not Eve. Which is either good or really fucking bad. Why wouldn’t he mention Eve? Is she home safe? Is… I can’t even think of the other option. No fucking way is she dead. Hell to the fuck no.
I got her out of here. I have people watching her until I know for certain she’s safe. I did everything right—everything that was best for her even if it has been fucking killing me.
“Rush!”
He pushes off from the wall when he hears me, and he tilts his head. “Grab one of the dark tinted cars and some keys. Probably best if I don’t drive right now.”
The rain is pounding outside; the last thing I need to fucking do is get myself killed trying to get to Eve. Who will be tucked safely into her shitty room when I get there or someone will fucking die.
Rush is a rain driver. He’s definitely the fastest on a wet road even when the normal person can’t see four inches in front of them because the downpour is so thick.
“What’s going on?” he asks as soon as I join him outside, rushing to one of the cars parked near the front.
He unlocks it, and we get in. I answer him while stabbing my feet into my boots.
“Drive to Eve’s. Fast. Just don’t get us killed.”
He’s spinning out in reverse and slinging us around the second the words are out. I grip the door until he levels us out, then I resume lacing my damn boots up.
“What’s going on?” he asks calmly, even though I feel him weaving in and out of traffic.
“I don’t know, but apparently there are cops and Drake is hard to get to. Axle didn’t elaborate.”
I raise up just as we hit midtown, blazing through the streets. I can’t see a fucking thing, but Rush is barreling along like it’s clear skies. Hence the reason he’s the one driving.
It seems like we’ve been on the road forever, but I know it hasn’t been that long, thanks to the bright clock taunting me. We fly by the tattoo parlor, and I glimpse it enough to know it’s not the problem, since not a car is in sight there.
