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“I meant for becoming an… you know what, never mind.” He turns to me, meeting my glare with one of his own. “I don’t want to be almost the only single officer,” he whines. “I can’t believe you hung me out to dry.”
My eyebrows shoot up, and I flip him off. Why the fuck would I hold off claiming Shelley so that he doesn’t get swarmed by groupies?
“You’ve been managing fine for the last few months while I’ve been off them,” I remind him. Viper grinds his jaw, his eyes darting over my shoulder.
“Joey’s getting pushy and annoying.”
I snort. Yeah, that’s going to be a problem. “Ah, so that’s the issue. She’s warning everyone off, so only her, Shanna, and Nance approach you?”
Those damn women. Viper shrugs, a smirk playing over his lips.
“Makes it sweeter when I show ‘em the bird and fuck whoever I want.”
Fucking hell, the man is going to start a groupie civil war. I can see them amassing, waiting for Shelley and me to move on so they can be all over Viper. He can see them too, sighing and rolling his eyes.
“I’m starting to realize there can be too much of a good thing,” he grumbles. “At least there’s one less of them these days.”
Glancing around in surprise, my eyes sweep over them. Fucking hell. There is one less.
“What happened to Dahlia?”
Viper snorts. “She got promoted. Decided she was getting too high in City Hall to continue to be associated with us. She did it nicely, organized a sit down with the Shaws, and told them she was picking her career over the club. They got Cockerel to cover her WH tattoo for free.”
“Who is Dahlia?” Shelley asks, tipping her head back, her eyebrows raised. Viper smirks at me. Fucker. Stirring shit. I flip him off as he starts to move away.
“She was a groupie. Friends with one of the old ladies. Lacey Munroe. You’ll meet Lacey at some point. Dahlia is an engineer for the city. Guess she got sick of us all.”
Shelley isn’t listening to me anymore. She’s giggling as she watches Viper get swarmed by eager groupies. A few of them hear her, shooting her death glares.
“They don’t like me very much.” Her eyes are wide, and she sounds worried. Snorting, I steer her to the bar.
“They don’t like Lisa much either. Well, most of them. So you’re in good company.”
We reach the bar at the same time Vicky does, sliding in beside Lisa wrapping her arm around her waist, and laying her head on Lisa’s shoulder. Shelley looks her over with interest, freezing when her eyes land on Vicky’s WH tattoo.
Fucking hell. Why did no one warn me what a minefield it was to navigate a new old lady through groupie central? Assholes. A heads-up would have been nice.
Leaning down, my lips brush against Shelley’s ear. “Not even once. She goes for older dudes.”
“You’reold,” Shelley hisses up at me. Rude. I glower down at her.
“You’ll pay for that dig,kid.”
She giggles, offering Vicky a tentative smile. Immediately, Vicky grins at her, reaching over and toying with her hair.
“I work at the salon. You need to come in and see me. As an old lady, it’s on the house. I would be in heaven playing with your hair.”
“I-I’ll call to book an appointment,” Shelley stutters.
Over her head, I can see Aric raising a glass to me.
“Come on.” I steer her away from the others, where Aric is chatting with the Prez.
“Shelley, this is our President, Holton, and VP, Aric.”
“Hi,” she says softly, looking super shy. I bite back a snort. Awkward in the face of perceived authority? Yeah, she was never a real rebel. Aric smiles at her, handing us both whiskeys.
“I saw the plans for the crèche thing. It’s going to look good.”
