Screw (Hell's Handlers MC 8)

Each and every one of them greeted Jazz with a hug and a complement on how good she looked. Clearly, she’d found a sisterhood she loved, and they seemed to hold her in just as high regard.

“So who do we have here?” A long haired curvy blonde asked. She looped her arm through Jazz’s, openly assessing him.

He had no problem with that. Getting Jazz’s friends in his corner couldn’t possibly be a bad thing. So let them gawk.

“Ladies, this is Gumby. Gumby, this is my girl posse. We have Holly, Toni, Chloe, Stephanie, Shell, and…is Izzy here?”

The red-haired beauty she’d called Chloe shook her head. “She stayed home with the baby tonight.”

Jazz nodded. “She has a newborn. You’ll meet her soon, though.”

“Ladies,” Gumby said with a dip of his head. “Nice to meet you.” They were a gorgeous group, all dressed in similar attire. Tight denim, skimpy tops, high heels. Nothing overly flashy or revealing, but a bit of skin showing. All except for Jazz, that was. She wore a fitted sweater, covering every inch of skin on her upper body. While she looked stunning, of course, Gumby had a hard time reconciling the woman he’d known in Arizona with this version of Jazz. She’d never been trashy or skanky, but she’d loved to dress up and flash a teasing hint of skin. Since he’d arrived, he hadn’t seen so much as a bare elbow. For whatever reason, she’d taken to keeping herself one hundred percent covered, even in her own home. Hell, even while she’d been working out yesterday.

“He’s a cute one,” Holly said, nudging Jazz with her elbow. Her blue eyes shone with mischief.

Pink-cheeked, Jazz nodded. “He’s all right.” Then she winked.

Gumby clutched a hand to his heart. “Just all right. Damn, woman, you wound me.”

Jazz giggled. The sound lifted his spirits.

As he chatted with the women, answering their rapid-fire questions, he couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of Screw out of the corner of his eye. The guy had downed three shots in five minutes and was working his way through a glass of whiskey. Guess he wasn’t worried about getting shit-faced. Irresponsible ass. One of the Handler’s club whores, someone had called them Honeys, hung off his arm laughing like he was the funniest man on earth.

Every few seconds, Jazz’s gaze drifted Screw’s way and the light in her eyes dimmed a little more. The guy had to realize his behavior would bother Jazmine. Just a few days ago, Gumby had caught them in a heated lip-lock. Now he flaunted some bimbo right under Jazz’s nose. What the hell was the guy thinking? Was this all a game to him? Did he get his kicks watching Jazz dangle on the end of his line?

No matter how much she protested, Jazz had some level of attraction for Screw. It was the why he hadn’t quite figured out yet. Sure, the guy was hot as fuck, but couldn’t Jazz see past that to the selfish asshole beneath?

Okay, fine, the man also loved his club, had the full trust of his brothers, was pretty damn funny, and seemed respected by the women of the club as well. Maybe he wasn’t a total fucker, but he sure seemed to be on a mission to wound Jazz tonight.

And fuck if he was gonna stand by and watch the guy hurt her. A sexy ass, swagger, and that soft looking beard didn’t give him the right to stomp all over her. No matter what went down between them the other day.

“Well, welcome to Townsend, Gumby,” Shell said, drawing his attention back to Jazz’s friends. “Let any of us know if you need anything while you’re here,” Shell said with a sweet smile. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was the president’s ol’ lady.

“Thank you. Your town is nearly as gorgeous as Jazz is.”

A collective, “Aww,” came from the ladies, making Jazz blush and roll her eyes, but some of her sparkle returned.

Point, Gumby.

He dangled his empty beer bottle, giving it a shake. “I’m gonna grab another. Anyone want a refill?”

The ladies shook their heads.

“Want me to come with?” Jazz asked, flicking her gaze again to Screw who hovered near the bar. Sweet of her to offer to be his back up, but Gumby actually hoped to catch the guy alone for a minute or two.

It was time to clear the fucking air.

“Nah, babe, I’m good. Enjoy some time with your girls.”

She looked ready to protest, but he winked and rushed off before she had the chance. After asking the barman for another beer, he felt rather than saw Screw sidle up next to him. How he’d known it was Screw and not anyone else on earth was a mystery he’d rather not delve into.

“Well if it isn’t Townsend’s newest resident,” Screw said as he signaled the Honey lending a hand behind the bar. He held up two fingers. “Tequila.”