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She laughs as she grabs my hand then heads towards Hangman. “Hello, Prez,” she says like she’s known him for a decade.
Hangman’s eyes flit over her, but his face is neutral. He’s a guy who likes women, can be charming when he wants to be. But with Evanee, it’s clear he doesn’t want to be. He’s like that with all the ol’ ladies. He treats them like they’re part of the club, which means they’re as much subject to his wrath as we are. Mind you, he don’t punch them. It’s like they’re his cross to bear, but inside I know he’s protective of them. He’s the prez because he’s a great leader, so I think what he’s doin’ is setting an example for the rest of the guys. No fucking with the ol’ ladies.
“You keepin’ my investment safe?” he says to her.
Evanee holds her pretty smile, but her eyes narrow slightly and her body stiffens. “Of course, I am,” she replies in that slow, inviting cadence that I promised her a spanking for doing. “I have a .38 under the counter in the reception area in case one of my clients causes a ruckus.”
This time it’s Hangman who narrows his eyes. “You forgot to flash your tits,” he sneers.
“Hangman,” I growl in warning.
Evanee touches my arm. “Trigger has asked me to stop using my assets when interacting with men and while I’ve found it challenging, what Trigger wants, Trigger gets.” She smiles too seductively for my liking, but she’s trying.
Hangman flattens his lips, but Evanee’s basically cut him off at the knees. There’s nothing he can say that won’t make him look like the offending party. However, I get an evil glare before he turns his back and stalks toward Dicer.
I make the rest of the introductions and the brothers are mostly respectful, even Hash. Maybe he’s learning how not be a total bastard from Peyton, our Blackbeard rescue. She’s noticeably absent, but that’s not a surprise.
As the evening progresses, the party gets wilder. I’m having trouble keeping track of Evanee as she’s not the type to stay glued to my side. Mostly, she’s hanging with the ol’ ladies, but I catch her talking to the passarounds at some point. The conversation seems friendly enough, but Jess comes along and drags her away. I have to remember to thank Jess later.
Hangman interrupts a conversation I’m having with Rider and Rocky. “Talk to the asshole in the Chamber yet?”
I blank. “Asshole?”
“Jesus. I’m raisin’ idiots! The Blackbeard that fucked with Kit.”
Aw shit! “He’s on my list of things to do. Been planning to talk to him tomorrow. Reaper and Joker are feedin’ and watering him.”
I fuckin’ hope.
“Get it the fuck done!” Hangman growls as he turns his back on me.
I track down Joker who seems to be having a serious convo with Mothman. Don’t look like the VP is about to punch the new prince, so I feel confident I can interrupt without getting thumped myself.
“Gotta borrow the VP for a minute,” I say to Mothman, dragging Joker away.
“What the fuck do you want?” Joker asks. He smells like he took a bath in a whiskey barrel.
“You been lookin’ after the Blackbeard in the Chamber?”
“Why the fuck would I do that? He’s your problem.” A sober Joker is serious and unforgiving. A drunk Joker can be a riot or cause a riot. And he can turn on a dime.
“Because you brought him here and a Blackbeard is a Jury problem. Not just mine.” I run a hand through my hair, then realize most of it isn’t there. “It’s been days since we put him down there.”
Joker squints at me. “Reaper’s probably been lookin’ after him. He’s the responsible one.”
I groan. Sure, Reaper’s got his head on straight, but his way of dealing with a problem stops at the door. He kills them or ignores them. I know he didn’t kill this one so….
Joker grips my arm and pulls me through the increasingly crowded room as hangarounds, associates, and friends of friends join the party. Reaper’s talkin’ to Eight, his head bent, listening intently. The two are partners in both the legit and criminal activities and are always plannin’ something.
Eight is stone-cold sober, but it’s clear Reaper’s had a few because he actually smiles when he sees me. “Trigger! Been talkin’ about your woman.”
That gets my back up. “Keep away from her or I’ll fuck you up.”
Maybe wrong words as Reaper grabs me by the collar and barrels me across the room. He tries to slam me up against the sliding glass doors, but the fucking things are open, and we land in a tangled heap on the ground.
“Jesus!” I grunt as my backbone bounces off the hard-packed dirt. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“You, shithead,” Reaper snarls as he rolls to his back. “You’re an asshole.”
