“Plus,” he said. “You’ve seen some shit with us. Shit you didn’t try to stop. We go down, you’re coming with.”
“Fuck, Rocket. Could you be more of an asshole?” Mav asked. “Babe, he didn’t mean—”
Steph held up her hand. “I know exactly what he means. And I’m not offended.” It was a warning. Don’t fuck with his brothers. While the subtle threat was aimed at her, and therefore uncomfortable, she appreciated how he had Maverick and the others’ backs.
Mav flipped Rocket off then took her hand. She shifted in the booth until she was facing him.
“Lefty’s gang is a mess of leftover Gray Dragons and dipshit kids who have something to prove. They’re weak at best right now. The Handlers could wipe them off the map, but no one wants a war. People get hurt on both sides, brothers get arrested, shit gets ugly. We told Lefty we’d stay out of his shit if he brought Chloe to that hotel and got out of the trafficking biz. Plenty of other ways he can make his dirty money.”
Steph nodded as it all ran through her head. Good, this was good. It could all die out if Lefty stuck to his side of the deal. Though that was a big “if”. “Think he’ll play nice?”
Mav fiddled with the fingers on her right hand. “Well, that’s the problem. The other condition was that Chloe had to be unharmed, or at least not harmed worse than she was by the time we got to Lefty. We’re pretty sure he went extra hard on her as a fuck you to Copper who made it pretty clear he had no intention of any kind of alliance.”
“Shit.” Steph sucked in a breath and looked at Rocket. His jaw ticked and his eyes blazed with anger.
“So now you don’t know if you can trust him. And now you need to figure out if it’s worth starting a war over one woman or if you wait it out and see if he stops selling women.”
Mav blew out a harsh breath. “I know it sounds harsh, babe, but—”
She held up a hand again. “I get it. I do. It’s not black and white.” Her eyes widened as the words left her mouth. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought she’d say. But there she was.
Rocket studied her with those eyes that saw too much. “I know you had a tough time dealing with the shit that went down with King, but you’re awfully unfazed talking about this,” he said. “Deal with a lot of this kinda shit in your everyday life?” he asked.
She was the worst undercover agent ever. Being too comfortable with the details hadn’t even crossed her mind. Rocket’s stare had her squirming in her seat. Was she about to blow the whole damn thing right then and there?
“Hey, back the fuck off,” Mav said, meeting Rocket’s suspicious stare with an equally pissed one. “Whatever the fuck’s been up your ass this last week, either spit it out or keep it in, but don’t project your shit on her.”
Stephanie reached for her drink and sucked back the rest. “My father was a cop,” she mumbled into the glass. “I’ve heard it all.”
As the alcohol burned its way down to her stomach, she felt fire lighting her soul as well. One lick of the flames for each lie she’d told over the past two months. She’d be a pile of ash in no time.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“GIN AND TONIC, sweet thing?” LJ asked from across the bar. When she didn’t respone, he said, “Steph!”
“What? Oh, sorry. Yeah, that’s fine.”
“No worries. I get it,” he said with a wink. “All this is a lot to take in. Flusters a girl.” As he spoke, he flexed his admittedly impressive biceps, pressing a kiss to the left one.
Steph grunted at the same time a Zippo lighter went flying past her head. It bounced off the very bicep LJ had his lips on, leaving a red welt.
“What the fuck?”
“Stop makin’ eyes at my woman, dickhead,” Mav said as he came up behind her. He circled her waist with his arms and zeroed in on her neck with his lips.
Instant arousal. Every. Damn. Time. Even when her insides swirled with anxiety. The man was some kind of sexual magician.
“Wasn’t making eyes at her, man. I was showing her what she was missing, being with a scrawny fucker like you.”
Even though it was all weird macho fun and games and Maverick was laughing like a loon, Steph’s hackles rose a bit. Mav was no slouch. Just because he wasn’t a brute. “Thanks for worrying about me, LJ,” she said, “but it’s not necessary. His biceps may not be as big as yours, but I guarantee he’s even bigger than you where it counts.”
“Oooh,” at least four different voices chimed in.