“Nope.” Teller thumps his hand against his chest. “Not me.”
“You can bring any intelligent questions to the table any time,” Rock says. “That’s how this works.”
Wrath shoots a glare at Teller. “If you’re just being a whiny little bitch and questioning the prez’s orders because your feelings got stepped on, then keep it to yourself.”
“The fuck?” Murphy says, scowling at Wrath.
Always ready to jump in and defend Teller no matter what. Just like when they were kids.
Wrath grins and shrugs. “What? Just spittin’ facts, little brother.”
Despite the tension, I bust up laughing. “Christ, Z must have had his hands full playing mediator between your two teams.” I gesture between Rock and Teller. “And I’m guessing Dex isn’t quite ready to tangle with all the dynamics here.”
“What are you rambling about, old man?” Wrath asks.
“Oh, I need to spell it out for ya, big guy?” I point to Rock, then Wrath. “You two been tighter than ticks since Rock dragged your hostile, overgrown ass home.”
“I’m about to show you hostile,” Wrath grouches.
I point to Murphy. “Same here. Except, Teller adopted you a little sooner than Rock adopted Wrath. And I suppose being married to his sister makes you two even closer. True family, now. So you’ll have each other’s backs even when you’re pissy with each other.”
Teller shoots a look at Rock, then back to Murphy. “Sure.”
“It’s good. You need each other to balance out all these strong personalities. Dex has Z’s sensitivity—”
Wrath snorts. “Z’s sensitive?”
“Once Dex figures out the right path,” I continue, ignoring Wrath’s interruption, “it’ll all be good.” I glance at Murphy. “You’ve got it too but you still see Rock as a father figure. You’re not quite ready to challenge him when he needs it. I have faith in you. You’ll get there.”
“He’s got no problem opening his mouth,” Rock says.
“Murphy’s as sensitive as an ox,” Teller adds.
“No, that’d be you.” Murphy shoves Teller’s arm off the table.
I shrug. “Just calling it like I see it, kids.”
“Thank you, Gray,” Rock says, not sounding one bit thankful for my observations.
I grin at him. “You’re welcome, Prez.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Grinder
The following Friday, I’m fixing up the mess my parole officer made of my apartment, when someone else knocks on my door.
If it’s motherfuckin’ Grillo again, I swear to fuck, I’m gonna choke him and just deal with the consequences. Fucker’s been here three times this week.
Since the date of the drop came and went without another message from Big Chief, I’ve been able to relax. Once he got no reaction from me, he probably lost interest. Found someone else to do his bidding on the outside.
I peer out the peephole and catch a mass of blond hair.
“Serena.” I throw the door open. “What are you doing here?”
My tone’s harsher than I intended.
Her jaw drops and she shifts the bags in her hands.
I grip her arm and yank her inside. Jesus. I don’t need any of Big Chief’s people to see her. Don’t want anyone on the inside even knowing she exists.
She blinks. Her mouth opens and closes, but no words come out.
“I’m sorry.” I take what looks like groceries out of her hands. “You surprised me, that’s all.”
“We said we were going to spend the weekend together. Snowed in, remember?” Hurt still dances in her nervous eyes.
Shit, I had suggested that, hadn’t I?
I should’ve warned her about what was going on, so this situation right here didn’t happen.
“I’m also agitated because Grillo showed up again. You just missed him.”
“Oh, no. I ran into him in the parking lot. It was kind of embarrassing because I have a trunk full of boxes of makeup I picked up at my P.O. Box on the way over.” She rolls her eyes. “He made some snarky comment about how I was too pretty for all that gook on my face. Like, dude, no one asked you.”
“Shit,” I growl, fucking pissed he was anywhere near her when I wasn’t around.
“He helped me with my bags and held the door for me. Offered to help me carry them up but I didn’t want to—”
“You should’ve called. I would’ve come down and met you.”
“I was excited to see you.” That anxious expression flows over her face again, tugging at the corners of her mouth. “We canceled our afternoon appointments and closed early.” She follows me to the kitchen. “I stopped at the store. So we wouldn’t have to go out. I can go home, though, if you changed your mind.”
Like fuck is she leaving. I set the bags on the counter with a thump and go to her, taking her hands and pulling her closer. “Come here.”
I wrap her up in my arms. She’s stiff at first, taking a few seconds to hug me back. I burrow my nose against her neck, inhaling the crisp winter wind mixed in her hair. A warm vanilla scent hits my nose as I inch closer to her skin.