Reaper and Destroyer moved closer, feeling the threat to Czar. It poured off Savage. Czar didn’t move. He just looked at Savage, waiting.
Maestro sauntered across the grass to Seychelle’s side. She flicked him a quick look from under her lashes but kept striding back and forth. Lana and Alena followed him at a much more leisurely pace. Seychelle could tell by the stealthy looks they were exchanging and the quick glances they were sneaking at Czar and Savage that what they were really after was information.
“Are you going to stop wasting energy?” Maestro demanded. “Stand still, for fuck’s sake, Seychelle.”
Of everyone in the Torpedo Ink club, Maestro reminded her the most of Savage. Sometimes Destroyer did as well, but he rarely spoke, so it was difficult to assess his personality.
“Did you want something?” Seychelle asked, coming to a stop in front of him but where she could keep an eye on her man. He seemed very tense. Angry, even, which didn’t make sense when he was talking with Czar. Just looking at him, anyone could see the danger pouring off him, warning anyone coming close to him to stay away. She wasn’t the only one to think that; Czar’s personal bodyguards had moved in protectively.
“What’s got Savage so upset that he’s threatening Czar?”
“Is that what he’s doing?” Seychelle asked, going for wide-eyed innocence. He definitely looked threatening, not that Czar was backing down.
“Yeah, I’d say Savage was getting close to decking him.”
“Isn’t there some kind of rule against decking the club president?” Seychelle lifted one eyebrow. Savage would have yanked her to him and delivered a smack to her butt. The moment she was sarcastic, he would have known she was giving him crap.
Lana and Alena overheard. They had walked right up to them, uncaring whether or not the conversation was private.
“I see you didn’t waste any time causing trouble,” Lana pointed out. “I was afraid this might happen. A rift between our top enforcer and our president. All over little old you. That must make you feel powerful.”
Seychelle sent her a vapid smile. “You have no idea. I lay awake at night and plot how best to get Savage riled up against the president of his club just to cause trouble. It gives me such a rush.”
“Lana,” Alena cautioned. She waved a dismissing hand, as if that would clear the air between all of them. “Stop acting silly. She doesn’t mean anything, Seychelle. What are they fighting about?”
“I wouldn’t know. Savage told me to stay put and he’d only be a minute. That was a little while ago. I could tell the exchange was getting heated, but I have no idea why.” She turned her gaze back on Lana. “You know, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t pretend to be my friend when we’re in Sea Haven, around all the ladies having tea. You told me you thought I was so good for Savage, and now you act like I’m poison for him. I don’t mind someone despising me without reason, but being two-faced is difficult to take.” Seychelle thought she might as well throw down the gauntlet. What did she have to lose?
Lana’s face flushed under Maestro’s sudden, penetrating scrutiny. “It’s hardly like that.”
Seychelle’s eyebrow shot up. “Really? Because it feels exactly like that. An attack on me every time you get anywhere near me. You didn’t want me here. You still don’t.”
“No, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Seychelle looked at all three of their faces. “None of you do. So what exactly do you think Savage should do when he needs to get rid of his rage? Beat someone to death? Or are you all three advocates of him cheating on me?” She thought she might as well put that out there and find out just who was supporting Savage and her as a couple and who wasn’t.
Maestro and Lana both frowned at her and then looked at each other. Alena looked at her boots. She understood what it felt like to have someone she thought was with her exclusively betray her.
Lana shrugged. “Cheating isn’t the same as making sure Savage is taken care of properly in a bad situation.”
“You clearly don’t think I’m capable of doing what perfect strangers do.” Seychelle tried not to think about the amusement in Savage’s voice or the smirk on his face the night before when she’d asked him questions about giving blow jobs.
Lana shrugged again, her face a mask of indifference, showing she didn’t believe Seychelle capable of meeting Savage’s needs.
Alena’s breath hissed out. “Lana.” That was a clear reprimand.
Seychelle flicked her gaze to Maestro’s face. Like Savage, he wore a mask, but his eyes held compassion and also an emotion that told her he didn’t think she should be there either. She turned away from them without speaking again. She’d known she really didn’t have friends or allies in Savage’s club in spite of him telling her she did.