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Vex chuckles, knowing how much I don’t want to deal with her or her shit. Knowing he’s not in the hot seat, he’s quick to switch up and give me shit about his sister. Earlier, I played nice with her ass. Vex and a few brothers know I humor her and hate doing it, so he finds it hilarious to torment me about her and her always wanting on my dick. Case in point. The mischievous glint in his eyes right now.
“Well… Tazzie, she’s at the bar sneaking glances at you, flirting with some new dick.” Vex gives me a chin lift while sending me a knowing look. “You better get over there before she takes shit too damn far.” He growls the last part out when he sees what I do. Yeah, it’s all fun and games until she gets too handsy. Now, it’s my turn to send him a knowing look. Fucker.
Princess loves to play games and mark her imaginary territory, especially on nights like tonight. Talking too close to me, wrapping her arms around me, and giggling. Fucking hell, the damn giggling grates on my damn nerves. I put up with it out of respect for her, Pops, my Prez. I’m not one to disrespect the club princess, even though it would make my life much easier if I did. Maybe then she’d get a fucking clue and back the fuck off.
At that, I laugh because short of me claiming an ol’ lady that ain’t her, she ain’t ever going to back off. She’s admitted as much and probably won’t back off even after I claim my woman. Flashes of the little tornado come to mind, and my dick gets rock hard. I shift my stance, adjusting myself. I need to get this motherfucker under control before dealing with her. The last thing I need is Princess thinking she’s the reason I’m wound up.
My eyes catch hers when I shift my stance to look over my shoulder. She’s giving me come fuck me eyes. A grunt of annoyance rattles in my chest at knowing I’ll have to go over there and deal with her ass. That damn girl is relentless. Vex stands, chuckling, knowing how much I fucking hate dealing with Princess. He has had a lifetime of watching her be her.
“I'll meet you over there.” Pointing to the hall that leads to the offices.
He pats me on my back as he walks by and says good luck under his breath as he steps around me. I sigh because I’ll need it and the strength to deal with his sister.
Letting out a sigh of resignation, I make my way over to Princess. A triumphant smile blossoms, and her eyes light up at my approach. I scoff at how ridiculous she is with this shit. It has never worked and never will.
The guy that came with Bellamy watches as I approach. There is amusement in his eyes and a smirk on his face. He reads the situation for what it is. Princess is playing games. The girl is that damn obvious with her bullshit that even a perfect stranger can smell the desperation rolling off of her. It's the accidental touches, fluttering lashes, and tit grazes that make it obvious as fuck what she’s doing. And let us not forget how not-so-subtle she is when she looks over her shoulder to see if I’m paying attention. I don’t care who she flirts with or fucks, never will. The part of me that gives a little bit of a shit is because of my status as VP.
The scowl I give the guy that she’s talking to is half-hearted. Again, as the VP, I have to pretend that I give a shit. Being as it may, I don't know this dude, and until I do, I'll keep my eye on him. My job is and always will be to protect my own, as is my duty, even if my own is desperate for my dick.
Returning my attention to Princess, she leans back into the bar, pushing her tits out. I don’t spare them a glance as I look her in her eyes and nowhere else. Her eyes flash with frustration and annoyance at my lack of response. She quickly collects herself and looks up at me with seduction in her eyes. She reaches out to me, and I don’t stop her, but I don’t react when she runs her hand up my arm. Her eyes glitter as she gives me a teasing smirk, and I don’t respond again.
The thing is… she’s been playing this game for a long damn time, and it simply doesn't work. I have no plans to go there, not in the way she wants. One, because she's crazy as shit. And not in an Aww! She’s a keeper, crazy. But a bitch is whack-a-mole crazy, crazy. That shit’s not my thing. I don’t have that kind of patience. Two, she's Prez's girl and a no-go for me. It’s not necessarily a hard and fast rule for the club. It's just one I set for myself. We’re not cut from the same cloth. One drunken night has put shit in her head. It wasn’t anything heavy, and it was a big fucking mistake. One I don’t plan on repeating. I’ve regretted that shit every time I’ve had to deal with her ass. Her shit is getting to be a little much, her constant need to lay claim. Or the weird ass shit she does to make me jealous, which has become an annoying nuisance.
Me and her real talk, real life, are not fucking happening.
Since that fucked up night, she’s made it her mission to warn off all the club girls and hang-arounds. Telling them I plan to make her my ol’ lady. Which is the furthest thing from the truth. Yes, I may use her obsession with me to my advantage a time or two, and only in dire situations where a chick didn’t get the hint that one night meant just that. I know I shouldn’t, but her brand of crazy keeps chicks from clinging to me, and for that, I’m grateful. Is it an asshole move to use her like that? Maybe. Especially since I'm not giving in to her foolishness, but I’ll accept the benefits of her being crazy.
Prez knows it all. I don’t keep secrets from him. He was pissed, but he knew me, and I’d never take advantage of her. He also knows how she can be stubborn and greedy. She's just like her mother. Nothing and no oneis off limits. As I told Prez, what happened, happened. I have no plans to take it further or claim her. I need her ass to take the hint. Being ten years older than her and being the club's VP, I know we aren’t compatible. She doesn’t have the temperament to be with me like I would need my woman to be. I’ve even tried to use that fact as my reasoning to keep her desperate ass at a distance. It hasn’t worked. She swears she can handle what I do for the club. Even though few outside of the officers know what that is.
I sigh, and my eyes narrow as she continues, trying to get a reaction out of me. See, she’s relentless.
“Princess.”
“Tazzie,” she purrs.
My face is impassive. My eyes narrow in warning. She changes tactics when I still don’t respond how she wants me to. She shifts, taking her eyes off me and looking at her target. The calculation in her eyes has me letting out a breath of annoyance. Because in the next moment, she makes another idiotic attempt to make me jealous. She runs her talon-like nails over the forearm resting on the bar. Her response from him is a smirk and a shake of his head. Understanding the game, he continues to watch on, taking a few pulls of his beer, eyes bouncing back and forth between Princess and me. Looking over to him and ignoring Princess, I extend my hand. Our eyes lock, and his smirk turns into an understanding smile.
“We haven't officially met. Taz, VP of Lucifer's Saints MC mother chapter.” He shakes my hand without hesitation. Give him a little squeeze; lesser men would react to it, but not this guy. He only smirks in response.
“Pain Prince... yeah, that's my actual name. Take it up with my parents. I’m the left-hand man and cousin to the Goddess of Death. And... the guy they call to… well, bring the pain.” He chuckles and then winks toward Princess, who stares at him wide-eyed.
Oh shit.
It takes everything in me to school my features. I try not to show my reaction to his mentioning the Goddess of Death Because, in our circles, even if the moniker is corny as shit, she’s a well-known assassin. She’s known for her style of killing. Supposedly, the only reason the kills are attributed to her is how the targets are found. She usually takes them out in their homes, which is difficult because many are high profile and have security up the ass. But she does it, in and out, without ever getting caught. Her targets are left in the center of their beds on their knees, head down, hands bound and outstretched. It is said she takes them to church. Knowing who her father is and their last name, I shouldn’t find humor in it. But that is some funny shit.
To have this fucker glaze over that shit has me on alert. Because she has been active for nearly a decade, and her identity has been unknown. So, he either knows who I am or… Fuck, I don’t know. But I am smart enough not to ask questions or respond. Without acknowledging my shock, he continues, but the smirk on his face lets me know he knows I caught what he said and who he just outed.
Pointing to the other two he came with.
“That's Rocket Prince, my brother, an explosives expert. And that is our cousin and Bella's baby sister, Sinclair Petrov, our gymnast sneaky kitten extraordinaire.” The girl stares daggers at Pain. “Just call me Sin,” with a salute, acknowledging our introduction. I nod before she snaps her head to the hang-around she was talking with. Notice that every few seconds, her eyes scan the room. Not sure if she is monitoring the room to ensure shit isn’t about to go down, or if she’s looking for someone. Rocket, on the other hand, gives me a chin lift and carries on with his drink, staring straight ahead with those crazy eyes of his. Oh yeah, that fucker is a unique brand of crazy altogether. That much is clear; I clocked that shit in the parking lot when he was petting his fucking rocket launcher.
“Nice to meet you all,” I say.
Turning from them and focusing my attention back on Princess, her brows are furrowed and her eyes bounce between me and the trio. She doesn't know what the hell we are talking about. And that’s what the fuck I mean. She isn’t in this shit. Her knowledge of our world is surface level. Her Pops has done her no favors, keeping her in the dark.
“Princess, your Pops would like a word with you in his office,” I say, needing to get this shit handled and her where she needs to be.
Brows furrowed, concern and curiosity replaced the sultry look she gave me. Her shoulders slump when she looks into my eyes, and she sighs when I give her nothing. She gives me a jerky nod without a word, spins on her heels, and takes off toward her father's office, with me trailing behind her.
