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“It’s not my birthday,” he told the Saint. “Not for a while yet.”
“Oh shit man, I thought it was today. Gives me time to get you something; though, eh?”
Diesel shook his head, getting annoyed. “Crowley,” he said, eyes indicating me across the table. “I’m in the middle of a chat with our newest member. Do you mind?”
“Oh fuck, yeah man. Sorry.”
The Saint left both shots untouched on the table and left, giving me a wicked side eye as he went.
“Where were we?” Diesel said, pushing the shots away. But before I could open my mouth to say anything else, we were interrupted a second time.
Pinkie returned, leaning down to whisper something in Diesel’s ear. His jaw tightened, and he cursed between clenched teeth.
My pulse raced in my chest, adrenaline spiking in my blood as my hand unconsciously went to my thigh, assessing the immediate area for threats.
“Relax,” Diesel told me, sensing where my mind had gone. Then his stare deepened, considering me in a new light.
“You still have a line on Alpha?” Diesel asked Pinkie without taking his eyes off me.
“Yeah. You have someone for her?”
He nodded toward me. “We promised our new comrades a show. Make the call.”
Pinkie turned, vanishing back the way he came, cell phone to his ear.
“Am I missing something?” I asked, skin still tingling as the burst of adrenaline began to fade.
“It seems the fighter we lined up for Rook soiled his big boy pants and took the first bus out of town.”
I lifted my brows, scowling.
What a pussy.
Diesel nodded, agreeing to my unvoiced sentiment.
“But our new friends,” he said, sweeping an arm over the gathering of Kings, Saints, lawyers and bankers. “Still expect a show.”
“So you’re replacing the fighter?”
“Fighters,” he corrected me, and the smile crawling across his mouth made my insides shudder.
“Looks like you have a chance to prove that you meant what you said,” he continued, running his tongue over his teeth. “You are now tonight’s fighter, Ava Jade. I suggest you go get ready.”
