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“On what?”
“If you piss her off,” Viking carries on. “She put Sandman’s willy out of action for a month.”
“That true?”
“Fuck yeah, it’s true. Motherfucker scarred Andi for life when he dropped his damn pants and showed us the damage.”
My balls shrivel as I grab my junk on instinct. “Damage? What do you mean, damage?” Sandman’s witchy woman kind of terrifies me. She’s a dainty thing, but that means nothing when it comes to the weird intuition she has. I don’t know how the dude sleeps next to her at night without fear of what she will do if he pisses her off.
The two of them share a look and start laughing.
“Assholes,” I grumble.
“If you want to talk to my woman, follow me to the apartment.”
“You sure you can’t ask her and just text me the information?”
“Are you getting a load of this? Prospect is scared of Bianca,” Viking gossips to Banks like a bitch. The pair of them laughing at my expense.
“Shit, brother. The thought of her hexing my dick out of commission would scare me too,” Banks mutters.
“You want your cut or not, man?” Sandman asks me as if it’s even a question.
Since I learned how to crawl, being a Royal Bastard has been all I’ve thought about. Living up to my father’s expectations. Riding next to his ghost. This is what I was born for. To be a part of the brotherhood and ride or die in the name of loyalty. In the name of the freedom we ache for. The right to own the open road and all that it offers. “Right. I knock back the extra shot.”
“What’s with the bandage?” Viking pokes me in the arm with the tip of the pool stick.
“Nothing.”
“Looks like he got some new ink,” Madison, one of the new club sluts, purrs while picking up our empty glasses.
“Let’s see it,” Sandman orders.
Fuck me. “It’s not finished.”
“You want to speak to my Ol’ Lady or not?”
Knowing I may as well get this shit over with, I rip off the bandage and shove the sleeve of my t-shirt up. “Go ahead and laugh it up.” The back of my neck sweats as embarrassment oozes through my veins.
“Did you tot you saw a puddy tat?” Viking does a poor imitation of the cartoon bird.
“Maybe he thought it’d help him attract more pussy,” Hound says on a chuckle, joining in on my humiliation.
“I think it’s cute,” Madison draws, running a finger along the tender skin.
“I was doing Ember a favor.”
“I don’t do favors like that for another man’s woman,” Banks notes.
“Smoke know you got a hard on for Ember?”
“Shut up?”
“Don’t be getting mouthy, Prospect,” Viking warns.
I keep my mouth shut. If I can get this done, I’ll prove I’m worthy of a cut.
I’m going to make my father proud, even if he isn’t here to witness me carrying on his legacy. This is what he would have wanted for me. I have no doubts on that.
