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His hand paws at her ass to give her a good squeeze.
Makes me sick.
Seeing him groping her.
I won’t make a move on his woman. Not unless he gives me an in by fucking up. For now, I settle for being her friend. Smoke doesn’t like it, but he keeps his mouth shut. In front of her, at least unless provoked.
“You ready to go?”
“Yeah. See you around, T-bird.” She smiles at me again and my damn heart leaps into my throat. I fucking hate and love it here.
“Later,” I manage to croak out as she saunters toward the front of the shop.
Smoke hangs back. “Find out who that bitch is.” His fist connects with my arm right where my fresh ink is.
I bite my tongue to keep from groaning. “Sure thing.” I crank my arm and shake off the punch.
First things first. I need a fucking joint.
I ride out to the clubhouse with this damn bird inked on my arm, hoping like hell no one asks to see it. I’ll be laughed out of Charleston.
Chapter Two
“Happy Friday all you Lipstick and Bloodstain crime junkies. If you’re just tuning in for the first time, my name is Stella and each week I talk about beauty products and true crime. Two of my favorite things and if you’re listening, then I’m assuming you’re into them too. This week I’m testing the radiant lip butter from a native to my city of Charleston, WV. She owns an all-natural apothecary type store. I’m not really sure what to call it, but they also sell crystals and all your witchy needs. So, if that’s your thing, then you should head to Barefoot Moon Goddess downtown and see Bianca. She will hook you up. I’d also like to thank her for being my sponsor this week.”
Fucking finally. I snuff out my joint and down the rest of my beer. I’ve been listening to this chick gush about makeup and murder for hours. Sure, this mystery woman has a voice that’s sultry and practically caresses my dick every time she laughs, but I have a job to do. Now I have a clue. Bianca has to know who this chick is. I pop my earbuds out and shove them back in their case before heading downstairs to the bar to see if Sandman is hanging around.
I find the crazy bastard shooting pool with Viking. If I want to ask about his ol’ lady, I need to butter him up with liquor. He’s possessive as fuck over his woman, but hell, what man in this club that’s got their pussy locked down isn’t. My old man used to say a good woman was a blessing and a curse. Said a man could lose his goddamned mind over good pussy. He wasn’t wrong. I’ve watched men kill over less. Watched them fight to the near death for the love of a woman.
Like Viking. He went to battle for his wife. Hell, as much as I don’t like Smoke at times, I know the prick would kill for her. I shake off those thoughts. I need to let it go. Get over the fact that in her eyes the better man won. Leave that shit in the rearview. Keep moving forward.
I head behind the bar and have one of the other prospects fetch me a couple of old school Jäger bombs. Made with beer instead of Red Bull.
“Drinks are on me.” I chuckle and hand them out.
“Prospect,” Viking mutters and throws his back.
“Can I get the next game?”
“I’ve gotta ride out. Bianca is expecting me for dinner.” Sandman hands his shot glass to Viking.
“Hey man, speaking of the witch.”
Sandman’s dark eyes cut to me, forming into tiny slits.
I hold up my palm. “I’m working on something, and she sponsored a podcast. I just need to ask her who the chick is.”
“This that bitch running her mouth about the club?”
“Yup. Trying to earn my cut, ya know?”
Sandman rakes a palm over his face. “Fuck.”
“She won’t like hex me or some shit, will she?”
Viking snorts.
“That depends.”
