That mouthy turd rolled off the couch and ambled over. Splice rested his hands against the bar behind him. Never believe a biker who says they don’t gossip. His MC was like the Golden Girls if they latched onto a bit of news about any member.
Looking tired, Mouse scrubbed at his messy hair. “What’s up, Scar?”
“Didn’t you say Splice was being possessive over a woman recently?”
“Ohhhh,” laughed Mouse and met Splice’s stern eyes.
The thing about Mouse was, he had no filter and no sense of what death he was looking at if he dared open his trap.
“So, picture the scene: Denver, Primo, and me were eating at the Grill, and this stunning babe came in. Splice went at her like a missile.”
“Fuck off, I did not.” He scowled.
“Should’ve seen you through my peepers,” smirked the smaller man. Splice was about to hang the asshat upside down by his laces. “Then he moved us all to her table. The lovely Lisa, wasn’t it? Softly spoken like an angel and pretty as could be. He even walked her out to her car. She’s friends with Nina, but I never saw her at the club before.”
Scarlett’s shocked face whipped up to look at Splice. “Are you talking about Lisa Wolfe? That Lisa?”
Three faces were looking at him, and Splice didn’t know why he felt obstinate about talking about Lisa. Discussing his hookups was never something he bothered with before.
But Lisa wasn’t a hookup.
“The claim is they know each other through Nina, but they gave contradictory answers.” Smirked Mouse, loving tattling.
Splice was gonna knock his teeth out.
“Small world. I didn’t know you guys knew each other. She comes to all of our girl dates.”
“And our boy here didn’t like it when pretty Lisa was speaking Italian with Primo. She made Primo swoon his ass off.”
“Fuck off, Mouse,” warned Splice with a growl, and the youngest biker backed up.
Before Scarlett could activate her nosy gene, Splice pushed himself off the bar.
“Axel, you’ve gotta control your woman!” he clipped. “I’m out.”
“Wait, Splice.” Called out Scarlett. “Are you trying to date Lisa?”
Mouse’s idiotic laughter followed Splice out of the clubhouse as he ignored her question.
Lisa was his business; his chest burned with... what? Protective instincts? Maybe. But it felt like something else. Something stronger, a long-since dead sensation, now awakened.Possessiveness. He didn’t want to share how he knew her or what she’d once meant to him.
Fishing out his phone as he took slow steps across to the open auto shop, he noted how Lisa hadn’t replied to his last text.
Turns out she was the only woman who wasn’t bombarding him with texts.
Stepping into the building, Tomb was working under a car. Splice hooked up a metal chair with a foot and plopped down on it by the door.
Splice: What’s up, babe?
Seeing the dots move on the screen instantly gave him a thrill.
Lisa: The ceiling. The sky. Airplanes. Balloons. Birds.
He snorted at her immediate sarcasm.
Lisa: Do you mean what I’m doing right now?
Splice: Yes.
