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The UTV he picked is a serious piece of equipment with six wheels and more towing capacity than most on-road vehicles. The guys use it around the property a lot in the spring.
“Give me a sec,” Wrath says, holding up a finger. He jogs to the end of the garage and grabs a stack of paper targets, and a staple gun. The club keeps an arsenal stored beneath this garage, so it’s not strange to find targets and ammunition stored out here. He returns, drops the stuff in the dump bed and tosses the keys to me. Surprised, I stare at them for a second. Glancing up, I catch his shrug. “I’ve gotten used to you driving me around.”
Cute. Okay.
“Z’s only let me drive this beast once,” I tell him as I fire it up. He responds with a tight-lipped smile. Wrath compliments me on the way I navigate the trail with the unfamiliar vehicle. The simple, sincere comment means a lot to me. Once or twice he asks me to stop, so he can knock back branches blocking the path.
The range is no joke. Wrath and Z supervised while the prospects built the open structure last year. There are five shooting stations with benches and tables facing targets set up at twenty-five yard intervals all the way out to three hundred yards.
“What did you bring?” I ask.
His lips curl into a grin. Wrath loves his guns.
“A new Glock I picked up and a twenty gage semi-auto I wanna show you how to use.”
“I know how to use a shotgun.” My dad taught me when I was barely big enough to hold one.
“Good, then it’ll be easy for you.”
He lays out our weapons on the counter behind us. Everything lined up precise, because that’s how Wrath is. He’s also a stickler for range safety.
“Clear,” he shouts before jogging over to the fifteen yard berm, even though we’re the only ones out here. He staples a target up and jogs back.
“We’ll just work on getting a pattern down on paper.”
My mouth twitches in amusement. I’ll humor him for now. He cracks the gun open and loads in five shells.
He jerks his head toward the gear behind us. “Grab some ear plugs and safety glasses out of my bag, please.”
Of course he’s well prepared. He has dozens of little packets of single use earplugs, a fancier set of professional earmuffs, and protective eyewear.
Even with the earmuffs, the shotgun blast makes me jump. At least it doesn’t kick as hard as I’d expected.
Wrath runs down range to grab my target and bring it up. “Good job,” he says before showing it to me.
Once I’m comfortable loading it and shooting by myself, we move on to the handguns.
Wrath pulls out a small black pistol. “This would be a good carry gun for you,” he says as he hands it over.
“What do I need to conceal carry for? Going to Ward’s? I hardly ever leave the property.”
Wrath shrugs. “You never know.”
I put a few rounds through it and hand it back to Wrath. “I don’t like the aggressive texture on the grip.” I flex my fingers in front of his face. “It bit into my hand a little.”
He frowns, then grabs my hand, kissing the spot where the gun dug into my skin. “It fits you well otherwise. I can swap out the grip.”
The simple sweet gesture tangles all my emotions. For a second I can’t speak.
“Are you hungry, babe?” he asks, nodding at the picnic backpack I brought with us.
“Uh, yeah.” Sure that’s it.
I’m baffled by Trinity’s change in mood after lunch. I thought we had a pleasant, non-sexual afternoon. She’s always been a lot of fun at the range. Actually knows what she’s doing, but always listens to instruction. Plus, there isn’t a single weapon she’s afraid of handling. If we ever ran into trouble, I’d be confident having her covering my six.
She yawns when I pull up to the clubhouse.
“Go on, I’ll put everything away. Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll come get you around five and we’ll go out to dinner.”
“Hmm, that almost sounds like a date.”
“Would that be so bad?”
“No,” she says softly and pushes out of her seat.
I reach over and grab her hand. “Hey. Give me a kiss.”
Her mouth turns up and she stretches over to give me a quick peck on the cheek.
“That wasn’t enough, Angel Face. I’m going to collect later.”
She chuckles and dashes up the steps.
At five sharp I’m throwing my knuckles against her door. Can’t wait another second to see her. She opens it with a smile.
“Ready?”
“Almost. I, uh…had some stuff to do.”
Okay. I guess that makes sense. She’s been so busy tending to me she probably hasn’t had a moment to do her own stuff. Whatever that might be.
She’s still standing there, staring up at me. “Can I come in?”
“Uh.” She hesitates then steps out, closing the door behind her. “You still want go out to dinner?”
No, I want her to let me in her fucking room “Yes. Been looking forward to it.”
She hesitates. “I—”
“Meet you by the front door in half an hour.”
The corners of her mouth quirk up. “Okay.”
Don’t know why, but I half expect her not to show. I rush through a shower and throw on some clothes, fully prepared to drag her out of her room if I need to.
I’m pleasantly surprised to find her waiting by the front door. She took the time to squeeze into some painted-on jeans, and twist her hair into two braids.
“Cute,” I say, twirling the ends of one of the braids.
Her shoulders twitch in an embarrassed shrug. “Figured we were taking your bike.”
“Yeah. I like it, babe.”
Her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink. It reminds me of her turning pink—
Yeah. Best not to go there.
I want tonight to be about showing her how much I appreciate her help and how much I like being with her. Not about fucking her.
Hog Heaven does a special dinner menu on the weekends, so that’s where we go.
“So this is what it feels like to be on a date,” Trinity says with a snort after the waitress takes our order.
Words to respond fail me. Can’t name one chick I’ve ever taken out to eat. I flirted, fucked and moved on to the next. All because I’d screwed things up with the one I wanted more than anything.
“Are you happy you’ll be rid of me after tomorrow night?” she asks.
“What are you talking about?”
I caught her mid-sip and she stares into her water glass. Obviously, I’ve done a lousy job proving how I feel about her.
“No. Fuck no, babe. Why would you think that?”
Her shoulders jerk up and her gaze skips away. “Sorry I kicked your ass at target practice today,” she says with a smirk.
Way to change the subject.
“You’re good, babe, but not that good.”
Her eyes widen and her mouth drops in fake indignation. “Liar. What’d you do with those targets? I want a rematch.”
Laughter explodes out of me. “Yeah, we should pick you up some fancy pink camo gear on the way home. Maybe it will help you shoot better.”
She plants one hand on her hip and leans over the table. Her eyes sparkle with amusement and all I want to do is close the distance between us and kiss her. “I never understood the point of pink camo unless you’re hiding out in Candy Land.”
The silly comeback makes me laugh even harder. “Fuck, I love you.”
We both stop laughing and just stare at each other.
“Which one of you had the barbecue sampler?”
Trinity shakes herself out of our staring contest first and signals the waitress.
“Guess you’re the chicken Mykonos, sir.” I nod and wait for her to go away so I can tell Tinity that may have sounded off the cuff, but I mean it. She ducks her head and pokes at her cole slaw.
“Thought you’d be tired of chicken by now,” she s
ays as soon as the waitress leaves.
Huh? “No. I’ve got no complaints.” I should wait until after the fight tomorrow. Take her someplace nice and lay everything out for her. “I hope you know I appreciate all your help these last few weeks.”
“Of course.”
“I like all the time we’ve been able to spend together.”
Finally, she looks up at me. “Me too.”
“Babe, you look like you’re gonna cry. What’d I do?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” She tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear and attacks her dinner. The rest of the meal we’re quiet. When we finally step outside, I snag her around the waist and spin her around until she’s shaking with laughter.
“Put me down before I barf!”
I press a wet kiss on her cheek before letting her go. She’s laughing and wiping her face. “You nut.”
“At least you’re smiling. I hate when you’re unhappy.”
She stops and stares as if no one’s ever said that to her before.
“I had a nice day with you, Angel Face.”
“Me too.” I snuggle up closer to him and kiss his cheek, then trail my lips down his neck.
Party noises filter in through the door, but in here, it’s quiet and just us. “Not tonight. You’re right. I want to conserve my juices for the fight.”
Thinking he’s kidding, I brush my hand over his chest. He captures it in his hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing my fingertips. “Seriously.”
Burning with want, I almost sob while asking, “Do you want me to go sleep in my room?”
“No.”
“Well, what if I can’t control myself in the morning?”
He kisses my forehead. “I’ll fight you off. Get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.” With that, he releases me and turns over.
This is it. He’s trying to push me away slowly. After the fight, he won’t want me staying in his room anymore. I knew all along this was short-term, so why am I so sad? I snuggle up against his back, enjoying his warmth while I still have it.
The address for the fight came in around three, a familiar location in Ironworks. I forward it to Rock and Z. I’m still not convinced the girls should come. Spoke to Whisper about it and he said his crew would have some of their ol’ ladies with them, which made me only a fraction more comfortable.
But Trinity’s enthusiasm went straight to my head. Like the conceited prick I am, I want her to see what I can do in the ring. She’s told me a bunch of times, in words and actions, how much she likes seeing me train. The cocky fucker inside of me wants her to see me unrestrained.
I want her to see me win.
Then afterward, we’re going someplace nice and quiet. Just the two of us. There are things I need to explain to her.
We spend the day watching YouTube videos, including a few that Jake and I already watched of the kid I’m fighting. I call up a few now and watch them, while Trinity sits on the floor painting her nails. It’s nice and domestic.
Well, as domestic as we get.
Every now and then, I reach out and run my fingers through her hair and she turns and smiles up at me. Each one of those smiles fuckin’ wrecks me.
As soon as I tell her I’ve got the address and we should get ready to go, her smiles turn anxious.
Sitting up on the couch, I grab her hands and pull her between my knees. “What did I tell you?”
“You’re not going to let him touch you?”
“Yeah. So wipe that worried look off your face, or I’m gonna get insulted.”
That makes her laugh softly and she runs her fingers over my cheek. “I don’t want anything to happen to this handsome face.”
My chest warms and tightens at the way she says that. “I promise you, I’ll keep my ugly mug intact.”
She leans over and kisses my forehead. It’s sweet, but it also puts her tits right in my face. I kiss the bit of cleavage she’s flashing, making her giggle.
“No boom-boom before the big fight, remember?”
“Yeah. I remember. Go get ready. Wear something comfortable, though.”
She cocks her head at me. “No, I was going to wear a crotch-shot skirt and hooker heels.”
Her description makes me laugh. Yeah, that’s not Trin’s style. Something else I like about her. She makes me work for everything—every smile, every peek.
She meets me at the door, looking cute as fuck in her LOKI tank top and jeans.
I motion her over to the bar and show her an ankle holster and the Glock G43 I had her test out yesterday.
“You want me to carry?” she asks.
“Yeah. Just in case. They’re gonna wand people coming in the front. They probably won’t check anyone coming in the back and the guys will be too busy staring at your tits to bother checking for an ankle holster.”
“Okay.”
Fuck, I love how much she trusts me.
Squatting down in front of her, I lift up her right pant leg and attach the ankle holster. “Should probably get you one of those belly band ones so you can carry at your six, but for tonight, this is good.”
“Okay,” she whispers, leaning on my shoulders for balance. She shivers and I glance up.
“You all right?”
“Yeah. You done?”
Snapping the Glock into place, I roll her pant leg back down and check for any printing.
“Shake your leg.”
She scowls, but complies.
“How does it feel?”
“Not bad.”
“Draw for me.”
Giving me an exasperated sigh, she bends over—shoving her tits in my face for the second time this hour—and whips the gun out pretty fast considering the rig is new to her. She tucks the gun away and quirks an eyebrow at me. “Satisfied?”
“Yes.” I stand and give her a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for humoring me.”
I toss her a sweatshirt and we get on the road.
Even though we have the okay to be in Ironworks, I’m fucking twitchy being in Viper territory. Trin seems to sense it, and squeezes her arms and legs around me tighter.
Circling the building, I find a hole in the fence that surrounds it and drive right through, parking my bike in the shadow of the old warehouse. Trin must still be nervous. She doesn’t hesitate when I take her hand and lead her inside.
I was right about the security. No one even blinks in our direction when we enter the back room. Makes me even happier Trinity’s carrying.
We don’t get anything fancy like a room. It’s just a big open area. Fighters have staked out random spots. Most have their girlfriends as well as some sort of entourage with them. Well aware of my anti-social tendencies, Jake and Whisper are waiting for me in the back corner away from everyone else.
Jake lifts his chin at us. “Hey, Trinity. Ready to see your man kick some ass?”
She seems startled. I’m guessing because of the your man comment. But then she laughs. “Yup.”
With no small amount of pleasure, I notice she’s still holding my hand.
Whisper also notices, but remains quiet. That is, after all, how he got his nickname. He nods and gives me a fist bump.
This operation doesn’t bother with bullshit like ring girls running around in their underwear flashing signs at the crowd. No, these fights are purely about money and violence. Vipers have a crew here overseeing things. Wolf Knights have guys besides Whisper here as well. 18th Street and Green Street Crew have some of their punks around. A lot of enemies hanging out in one spot, holding a truce in the name of some quick cash. Most of the spectators have no gang affiliations or club ties. Just degenerate gamblers we’ll all make some money off.
Rock and the others should be here soon. I check my phone and see Rock sent me a text when they left—about ten minutes ago. Should take them another twenty to get here and probably fifteen more to make their way inside.
I’ve never gotten involved in the gossipy shit that goes on in the back room before a fight. Yes, men—hardened
criminals—can gossip more than the mouthiest woman. Half the time the lies and bullshit start up needless trouble in already precarious relationships.
We end up standing around talking about nothing in particular. Trinity melts into my side and I like how natural she feels in my arms. You’d think I’d be anxious about the fight that’s coming up. But in my head, it’s something I need to get through so I can have my conversation with Trinity. I can’t wait to lay it all out for her.
She’s mine. I’m hers. No more fucking nonsense.
Wrath keeps checking his phone. The backstage area continues to fill up with people. Considering there are only six fighters going in the ring tonight, there seems to be an awful lot of activity back here.
“You should have had more of the guys come with us,” I say when he finally glances up from his phone.
His forehead wrinkles. “Why?”
I nod at Jake and Whisper. “We’re not much of an entourage.”
“Oh.” He laughs, deep and hearty. “Don’t give a fuck about that, babe. Teller or Z usually stay back here with me too.”
Wrath glances around the room and scowls, then checks his phone again. His face softens for a second in relief. “Good. They’re here.” He pushes away from the wall and pulls me over to the open entrance. The cavernous room where the fight ring is set up is packed tight.
“Wait, I want to stay back here with you.”
His face locks down cold and hard. “Absolutely not.”
“Wrath—”
“No. As much as I trust Jake and Whisper, I want you with Kings. I need to focus, get myself centered, and I can’t do that if I’m distracted by you.”
My eyes sting and he seems to notice, because his hand curls over my shoulder and he uses a gentler tone. “I can’t keep you safe and concentrate on the fight. Remember, I promised you I wouldn’t get hurt?”
“Oh.” Glancing at the guys assembled back here, I understand his concern. He’s right. I like Jake and Whisper fine, but I trust Rock and Z with my life. I open my mouth to apologize, but Wrath nudges my shoulder.
