“I can imagine.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, she’s running herself ragged holding get togethers all the fuckin’ time. I think J’s had enough; I know I have.”
“Never thought I’d see the day you and J talked like civilised men. Madison’s a miracle worker.”
“Fuck you.” I grinned at him. “We all know J was a dickhead when it came to his caveman attitude towards Madison, so that was all on him.”
“Takes two to fuck it up,” Griff muttered, his gaze drifting to Marcus who’d just hit the clubhouse.
It was Friday afternoon and all the boys were gathering for Friday night drinks. Tension within the club had hit an all-time high over the last few weeks. After the fallout between Marcus and J a couple of months ago, Marcus was strengthening his ties with some of the boys. It looked like he was using those ties to create a divide between them and those of us behind J.
“He’s a sly bastard,” I said.
Griff turned back to me. “Marcus?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Some of the boys told me the shit he’s been spinning them. Making them promises of huge payouts if Storm runs drugs again. What I can’t fuckin’ work out is why the hell he got us out of drugs years ago if he’s just going to dump us back in that shit.”
Griff was quiet for a minute. “Been trying to figure that out myself.”
J and Scott joined us, and J glared at Marcus. “What the fuck’s he promising them now?” he snarled.
“Christ knows,” Scott said as he downed some of his beer.
I eyed him. “How you holding up, VP? That’s some shit Marcus threw your way this week.”
Scott scowled. “He can throw as much shit as he wants at me, at all of us; if he wants any of us out, we’re not going quietly.”
It was clear Marcus wanted J out, but it looked like he was trying to turn the boys against Scott too. We’d heard rumblings that he wanted a new VP. And it appeared his plan to achieve that goal involved spreading lies about Scott, which was what he’d started doing this week.
“Wilder tell you anything more?” Griff asked Scott.
“Thank fuck for that prospect,” I muttered. Wilder had been with Storm for almost a year, and as far as I was concerned, should be patched in right now. He was quietly behind J and Scott, and passing on information about Marcus.
Before Scott could answer, Harlow and Velvet walked in. I straightened at the sight of Velvet, on high alert for what she might have to say to me. We hadn't spoken in months after a disagreement. However, watching her now, she didn’t appear to be mad at me. In fact, she seemed happy enough to see me. I ran my eyes down her body, and my dick jerked as I took in the skin tight black pants, and fuck me heels she was wearing. I had no idea how women managed to walk in shoes that high, but I wasn’t fucking complaining. My gaze settled on her tits that were pushing their way out of her tight black top. She had to be a double D cup at least. Christ, one day I had to get my hands on them.
They came over to where we were, and Harlow began telling Scott some shit about her day. It was white noise to me as I zeroed in on Velvet’s tattoos. In amongst the ones she had on her arm, there was a new one. It was some sort of flower and swirl design. I wondered what it meant, because Velvet was deep where her tattoos were concerned. She had a lot of them on her arms, stomach and back, and they all symbolised something in her life.
She was watching me. I jabbed my finger in the direction of her tattoo. “What’s it mean?” I asked her, quietly.
“It’s a lotus flower. New beginnings, growth.”
“The colour in it looks good.”
Shit, this whole conversation felt stilted. I yearned for the easiness we used to have. And what new beginnings was she talking about?
“I used your girl again to do it. She’s good.”
I’d put Velvet onto my tattoo artist awhile back after she had a bad experience with the guy she was using. He’d hit on her and hadn’t been happy when Velvet said no. I was livid when I found out, and had paid him a visit. “Yeah, she might be an angry dyke but she’s damn good at what she does.”
Velvet’s gaze shifted to my arms. “You get any new ones lately?”
I chuckled. “It’s kinda getting hard to find any bare skin to ink.”
She smiled; the kind of smile that makes a man forget where he was and what he was doing. “Yeah, I guess.” And then her eyes twinkled with the Velvet mischievousness I’d really missed. “What about your ass, Nash? Is it inked?”
My face broke out in a grin. “You wanna see it? Happy to show you any part of my body that you’re interested in, sweet thing.”
Her eyes continued dancing. Hell, she was flirting with me now, and it felt fucking good. “Can we keep that invitation open? I’m fairly busy at the moment but I think your ass might be worth seeing.”