She was right. His woman was right. He’d hit the jackpot when he’d walked into that library. He brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles.
“I’m so tired, Scarlet. My head is killing me. I need to lay it down tonight. I know I owe you so many more explanations and apologies. But I have to sleep. I just want to hold you.”
“Fireplace is off.”
“I want you warm.”
“I can be warm with you next to me and a ton of blankets. We’ll figure things out together, Absinthe, but I’m protecting you until we do.”
He framed her face with both hands. More and more he was finding love was an overwhelming emotion. “You really are the most intelligent woman on the planet.”
“I know. Just kiss me. I think that’s the only thing that’s going to get you out of the trouble you’re always going to be getting into.”
He kissed her.SEVENTEEN“They’re going to dry that chicken out,” Mechanic observed, frowning. “Why the hell do they have someone on the barbecue that doesn’t know what he’s doing?”
Alena bumped him with her hip. “Did you try the potato salad? I tried to rescue it for you, but I was a little afraid that even I couldn’t make it better.”
“You can make rat poison palatable,” Transporter said, his eyes on the large group of bikers enjoying the sun setting over the river.
The members of the Venomous club wore their colors openly as they partied right in the middle of Diamondback territory on the banks of the river. It was either very foolhardy or they were deliberately taunting the larger club in a defiant gesture to come after them.
“If the Diamondbacks start a war with them, the Feds will blame the larger club,” Czar observed. “The Venomous club can plead innocence. They weren’t doing anything to provoke the Diamondbacks. They’re clearly willing to sacrifice a few of their members to achieve larger gains. Those higher up know what they’re doing, but the ones here don’t have a clue they’re in harm’s way. They think their brothers are looking out for them.”
“They joined the wrong fuckin’ club,” Reaper said.
Savage shrugged. “Goes to show, men like that find one another. There’s the one they call Jacko. He’s the manager of the day shift at the Gypsy Club. He’s in the bright red tee with his vest open. Has some woman doing him while he’s eating. Nice guy, just shoved her on her ass and laughed when she fell.” His voice dripped with ice.
Beside him, Destroyer was utterly still, but the temperature around him seemed to drop by several degrees.
“It’s going to be dark in the club when you go in with Savage, Destroyer,” Czar said. “How’s your night vision?”
There was instant silence. The Torpedo Ink team had been working together since they were children. Bringing in another individual, no matter how skilled he was, could be dangerous to all of them. Savage had agreed to work with him as his partner.
“Used to keep us blindfolded,” Destroyer murmured. His voice was slightly hoarse, as if somewhere along the line his throat had been damaged. “I spent a great deal of time alone so had time to practice listening for sounds. Became very accurate at finding rats scurrying in the cages with me. Could hit them precisely every time by my second year there. By my third year, I didn’t need eyesight.”
There was no bragging. He didn’t look at any of them. He wore dark glasses most of the time. Absinthe had rarely seen him without those glasses. Up close, he was all muscle, but the kind of man that could move fast and strike hard. There was no wasted movement. When he was still, he was absolutely still. Like a mesmerizing cobra. Absinthe had the feeling that if he took off those glasses, his eyes could hypnotize his prey. He had scars everywhere. Far more numerous than those of the Torpedo Ink members—and that was saying a lot.
“You aren’t eating,” Alena pointed out.
Absinthe knew it cost her to even talk to the man. She didn’t want any part of him but when it came to food, she didn’t like anyone going hungry.
“I can make it taste better. I know it’s pretty nasty,” she offered reluctantly. Destroyer was the only one who hadn’t handed his plate over to have her doctor it.
Storm had stolen a large bowl of potato salad right out from under the noses of the Venomous club. He’d taken it off the back of one of the trucks when they were unloading. Ice had scored the plates and silverware while Alena had somehow gotten a few spices, pickles, olives and condiments.
Destroyer shrugged. “No need. I’m used to crap food.”
“Don’t be an asshole martyr,” Alena snapped and yanked the plate out of his hands.
Absinthe had to turn away, hiding a smile. He noticed her brothers did the same. Destroyer might tower over her, but she didn’t back down from anyone. Not ever.