Wring: Road Kill MC #5 by Marata Eros Page B

lube, if this comes to
an all-out war.”
    “I thought we were taking back turf?” Trainer
asks in a serious voice.
    Still hard for me to think of him as a brother,
but god damn if he didn't do his time as a prospect.
    “We are, but all our moves are like a waltz. We
know the dance steps, and we're trying to lead reluctant
partners.”
    “Pretty poetic, Viper,” Snare says.
    “Stick around. I can wax poetic if the mood
strikes.”
    Chuckling all around.
    I know what I've done has stressed the resources
of the club and put us in a vulnerable position.
    “What about that cop that's working undercover
in Chaos?” Storm asks.
    I frown.
    “What about him?” Viper asks. “Can't do anything
with that. We're all under wraps about his identity. He's still
playing MC.”
    Everyone laughs. No one's got anything against
the cops. Actually, we do, but we’re saving it in case they get in
the way of us dealing arms.
    Otherwise, everyone's fucking hunky-dory.
    “Just sayinʼ.” Storm shrugs. “Thinking he might
have some insight.”
    Prez hikes a brow, clear surprise reigning
supreme on his face. “Um, that's a good point, Storm.” He clears
his throat, and it sounds like a grunt. “So, getting the cops
involved in gang territory is never good.” He strokes his chin.
    “You throwing down for Blondie?” Prez asks.
    I would hit anyone else for calling her that.
“No,” I answer in a short word. “I didn't come here for club
support.” I lean back in the chair, folding my arms. “I wanted
intel. I knew Noose could provide it.”
    “You also knew that you were coming between
Blood and pussy.”
    Fuck. “Yeah.”
    “So if you didn't think she mattered, and you
knew what was at stake, it was poor judgement, at best?”
    Viper gets to the heart of shit.
    I crack my knuckles under the table. “Yes,” I
hiss.
    “If she's your property…” Viper shrugs.
    “I know what it is if she's my property. I don't
need property.” I direct the veiled insult at Snare and Noose but
can't quite work up to disdain.
    “Then we can't help you. If you throw down for
Blondie…”
    My flinty eyes capture his.
    Viper chuckles. “You got it bad, you stubborn
fuck. It's like a damn broken record. First, Noose loses his prick,
then Snare—fuck, I'm getting too old for all the babysitting I have
to do with you swinging dicks.” He shakes his head.
    “I haven't Lost. My. Dick,” I say through my
teeth.
    “Yet,” Storm says with a smile.
    I stand.
    Noose does, too, wagging a finger at me. “I
already pushed him over in his chair for ya.”
    “I beat him up last year,” Snare volunteers, and
I slowly sit down again.
    “Stay away from Blondie,” Viper says. “Noose
will look into why she's so attractive to Vincent. Because his
interest doesn't seem to agree. Plenty of bitches love the
gangbangers. He doesn't need this one. She's work.” He chuckles.
“But it seems like all the brothers don't take after simple.”
    I scowl.
    “Yeah,” Trainer says, sucking on a lollipop,
making his tongue bright red, “it's like Sesame Street . What
doesn't belong.”
    “You're fucked up,” Storm says.
    “I bet there's some shit for you to clean up,”
Trainer says conversationally.
    Storm groans, and we laugh.
    “He's right,” Viper says.
    All heads turn to him.
    “Noose will find out why this Shannon is so
interesting to the Bloods.”
    I know why. They want her home. Her. Noose isn't
going to be finding out about that. I want to know about Shannon.
The woman. Not the commodity.
    That's why Noose is pissed.
    If I would admit she’s important to me, he would
be looking already. But because I won't, he got pissed.
    I can't admit that to him. If I do, then it's
real.

Chapter 10
    Shannon
     
    The Realtor is a smarmy guy with slicked-back
hair and perpetually pursed lips. His mouth is an angry line
underneath a beaky nose.
    But he came highly qualified. His real estate
company is rated number one in the state. I heave a