Spec (Hell's Handlers MC Florida Chapter 2) - Page 38

His gaze shifted back to the table where Jinx and Olivia had noticed the car. Jinx held a hand out as though instructing Olivia to remain seated at the table. Her eyes immediately went to Scott’s. He nodded once, and somehow, she seemed to understand he wanted her to sit tight.

He didn’t want to think too hard about why he got a thrill from her looking to him for guidance. Nope. Not thinking about that at all.

Thankfully, Devos pulled up, drawing his attention. Scott made the tactical decision to have the guy return his money on the Handlers’ turf. Devos needed to see the men who’d be removing his limbs if he so much as talked to Lobo again or breathed in the direction of the women.

He parked his expensive ride then got out, frowning as his fancy shoes sunk an inch into the slightly wet ground. It’d rained the night before, and the mud hadn’t fully dried. Scott didn’t greet him, just stood, arms folded as he waited for Devos to come to him. The guy carried a shiny metal briefcase, probably full of the money he owed like they were in a ransom movie.

Next to him, Tracker grunted. “This guy for real?” he asked as he watched Devos try to keep his shoes out of the mud.

Jinx sidled closer but lingered between Devos and the picnic table as a barrier to Olivia. Perfectly styled, as he’d been last time, the guy looked exactly like someone he could picture Olivia with.

Scott hated him even more than he had last week.

“That my money?” he called.

Devos’ gaze shifted between him and Tracker before he nodded. “Yes. It’s all here, with the interest.”

“Fucking better be,” Tracker said.

Devos’ eyes widened, and Scott couldn’t hold back his laugh. He’d kill to be in the guy’s head right now, getting the unguarded reaction to Tracker. The two men couldn’t have been more on opposite ends of the fashion spectrum with Tracker’s mohawk, tattoos, and piercings.

When Devos reached them, he held out the briefcase. “Who wants it?” he asked with a slight tremor in his voice.

“That’d be me,” Tracker said. Once he had the case with the cash, he said, “Gonna head in and count it all up. If it’s good, you can go.”

“Oh, it’s, uh, it’s good.” His wide-eyed gawk stayed with Tracker.

Having Devos come to the farm was the right decision. This was so fun.

“Hope so.” Tracker disappeared into the clubhouse, leaving him and Devos nothing to do but stare at each other. Scott didn’t mind. Waiting he could do. Hell, he’d stayed in one place for days, prone in the desert sand for orders to move.

Devos, however, sucked at keeping his cool. He shifted side to side, ran his hands through his hair, and let his gaze wander.

To Olivia.

“That your girlfriend?” he asked.

Scott grinned as he reached out and slapped Devos’ face. Not too hard, but probably felt like being hit by a truck to a soft guy like Devos.

“What the fuck, man?” he shouted, cradling his cheek.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Olivia’s spine snap straight and her hand fly to her mouth, but she kept quiet.

Admirable.

Jinx didn’t. He laughed long and loud.

“I say you could look at her?”

“N-no.” Devos’ cheek was bright red and already swelling.

Whoops. Maybe he’d hit a little harder than he’d intended. Whatever. At least the guy would know he wasn’t screwing around.

“So why the fuck are your eyes on her.”

“S-sorry.”

Scott grinned. Damn, this guy was too much fun. Bet it hurt like hell for him to apologize. Guys like Devos thought they were the shit. Top dogs in their little closed-off social circle of corporate cogs. Felt great to take him down a few rungs.

“Money’s all there,” Tracker called out from the door to the clubhouse.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Scott held his hand out.

Devos eyed it as though it was a snake ready to strike but reached out and took it. The second their hands met, Scott yanked him close. “Now you know what she looks like. She’s mine, Devos. Stay the fuck away. I don’t like it when my woman’s upset. Makes me violent. Next time, I won’t be as sweet. I’ll make your head roll across the damn farm. Get me?”

“Y-yeah. Sure, man. Of course.”

Scott straightened. “Get the fuck off club property.”

Devos practically ran to his car. This time he didn’t bother to try to save his shoes which had Scott and Jinx laughing as he slipped and skidded in the mud.

“Damn, brother, that was some beautiful work,” Jinx called once Devos was driving away.

Scott grinned at him. “Fun as fuck too.” Even though his brain screamed at him to go straight into the clubhouse, he couldn’t help but glance at Olivia. He was pretty sure Jinx filled her in on who Devos was and his connection to the man who grabbed her throat.

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