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“I bet he’s wondering what her Freddie Kruger hands will feel like wrapped around his dick when they’re healed,” Myles mocks. Leo rolls his neck around, a coldness washing over his features.
“You’re lucky I can’t put a foot wrong today. Say that shit again to me, I’ll open up your jugular.”
Always going for the throat. My boy never changes, but him getting so irate over this girl tells me there’s hope he won’t always close himself off in the future.
“There’s the Leo we all hate to love. Come on, tell me what else you’d do to me. Get my dick hard.” Smirking, Myles cups his dick.
“I always thought Emma was a good girl. Now, I’m wondering how fucked up she is for you to get hard over her,” Leo shoots back.
Shaking my head, I fight the grin at the back and forth between them as I drum my fingers along the tabletop.
“Don’t you worry about my old lady, worry about your own. She’s already had one bad experience with the club. Probably wouldn’t take much for her to leave.”
“She’s not my old lady,” Leo grinds out.
Having heard enough, I hold my hand up.
“Shut this shit down. You’re giving me a headache.”
Across the way, Harper sits beside Alannah, her eyes red and puffy.
“Jay, what’s got Harper upset?”
Watching him hang his head, I lean forward.
“You sure you wanna hear this?”
“If something’s upsetting her, I want to know.”
“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he mutters, looking up at me. “I wouldn’t fuck her. We had a fight about it, and she cried.”
“Man, you could’ve just said you had a fight,” Mason snorts.
“I said he wouldn’t want to hear to it.”
“I can’t believe you turned your own wife down. That doesn’t make for good husband material,” Myles tsks.
“She wants a kid, and all she was going on about was ovulating and shit. That’s not hot at all.”
I wasn’t aware Harper wanted a baby. The last we spoke of children, she was adamant she didn’t want them.
Thankfully, Slade shoves his laptop on the table in front of me and clicks on something, bringing up a video.
“You need to see this.”
Hitting play, the recording begins from a passenger seat view of a fast-moving vehicle. Up ahead on the road is a van with heavily tinted windows.
“Brace yourselves, boys,” someone out of camera shot orders.
The driver hits the gas, coming up fast behind the van. Ramming into the back of it, it sends the van jolting forward. I lean closer to the screen, watching the scene as Pope is sprung from police custody like he’s in a damn movie.
Slade hits play again when the video ends where Pope is being hustled into the waiting ride for the brothers hovering around.
“Did you organize this behind our backs?” JJ asks.
They get to the part where Pope is freed, and joyous chaos erupts around me, in clear view of the cops out front of the club.
“Shut the fuck up!” I hiss.
