He’d do it if he had to, but he preferred not to. It would piss him off and he was already fighting to keep from exploding.
One of Cage’s friends, who had become a regular hang-around, had broken out an eight-ball of coke and a few of them were doing lines where Trip wouldn’t notice.
Sig noticed.
And he was tempted.
But he knew how that shit got him wired as fuck and it might cause that volcano inside him, which was currently simmering dangerously, to erupt. So, he turned his back to that temptation and went to the bar instead to grab a couple of shots.
When he got there Mouse was behind the bar, pouring himself a beer from the tap into a plastic cup. But his eyes weren’t on his beer, they were on Red.
“Yo, Mouse,” Sig yelled, stepping into the former prospect’s line of sight to block his view.
“It’s Rev now. See?” He pointed to the new rectangular patch on the front of his cut.
Sig rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever, Rev. You into pregnant women?”
Rev sucked the head off the draft. The foam clung to his dark blond mustache for a second before he sucked it clean. “Nope, but I’m into redheads. Thinkin’ that color’s real, too. You saw her naked, is it?”
Sig wasn’t discussing Red’s fiery-colored pubes. “She’s got another man’s kid in her belly.”
“But it ain’t yours. And she ain’t gonna be knocked up forever. In fact, she’ll be good like six weeks after poppin’ out that kid.”
Sig’s eyebrows shot up and so did his blood pressure. “Oh yeah?”
Rev grinned. “Fuck yeah.”
“Think she’s gonna want dick from a dick like you?”
“Well, she’s fuckin’ sleepin’ in your bed, ain’t she?”
Sig slowly put his glass down on the bar before it shattered in his fingers.
Rev laughed. “Sig, brother, just fuckin’ with you.”
Sig stared at him. He didn’t find any of that shit funny.
“Just a little payback for all the shit you put me through while I was a prospect.”
Sig’s eyes narrowed. “So, you ain’t into redheads?”
“Fuck yeah. Love ‘em. But ain’t stupid enough to step on one of my brother’s toes like that. ‘Specially since I just earned my rockers. Don’t wanna have to cancel my appointment with the ink slinger.”
“Yeah? You gettin’ the club colors on your back?”
“Of fuckin’ course. Didn’t you?”
Sig didn’t want to admit he hadn’t and why. Instead, he swallowed a mouthful of whiskey. He hadn’t planned on sticking around long term. Having those colors inked into his skin meant forever and he wasn’t ready to land anywhere permanently any time soon.
Maybe not ever.
Right now he was just rolling with the punches until he got the inheritance that was due him and then he could roll back out of town with a fat wad of scratch in his pocket.
His eyes landed on Red who was sipping on a can of ginger ale while talking to Stella. Shady was standing about six feet behind her like a fucking well-trained guard dog. Fucker didn’t have to stick that close.
But whatever, at least he took the order seriously. He was one man he didn’t mind leaving with Red when Sig couldn’t be there. Shady hadn’t shown any interest in any women that Sig had seen. No girlfriend, no sweet butts, no hang-arounds, nothing with a pussy.
The man’s hands were probably calloused. Either that or he swung a different way. Sig really didn’t give a fuck as long as the prospect didn’t have eyes for Red and could be trustworthy.
So far, he was proving to be the right man for the job.
With Stella and Shady keeping an eye on Red, Sig picked up his glass, let the whiskey slide down his throat and try to douse the fire burning in this gut. His gaze sliced through the large common area of the clubhouse.
It was noisy. It was busy. And like always, almost anything went.
Almost anything.
Sex out in the open, pool and dart games, drinking, smoking, snorting, wrestling, and constant ball-busting. But it was still nothing like the parties the Originals had at the warehouse.
Sig’s fingers tightened on his glass. Tonight was not a night for him to go back down memory lane.
Luckily, something caught his eye to pull him back to the present.
Not something. Someone.
Short, dark hair. Dark eyes. Lots of dark “smoky” makeup around those eyes, reminding him of a goth look. A pierced eyebrow and both ears also full of piercings made him wonder if her nipples were pierced, too.
Her lips were painted a dark blood red. She had a tight black leather collar around her neck with short spikes with a ring on the front.
Her tits were so huge and the V neck of her tight top so low, Sig swore he could see the top of her areolas when she moved. And she was moving. She had a red Solo cup in one hand and was dancing by herself. Her short black leather skirt was working its way up her curvy thighs covered in fishnets, but on her feet weren’t any kind of heels, she wore some sort of black combat boots.