Screw (Hell's Handlers MC 8)

Well, today’s shift hadn’t exactly gone as expected.

After a few moments of staring into space, Jazz’s head began to get back in the program. It was then she realized how effectively Gumby had avoided talking about his sexual orientation. Not that she was complaining about his methods, but…sneaky man.

At some point, they’d have to discuss it. Screw didn’t live his life that way. Hell, he’d probably never spent a day in the closet. How was he going to handle a relationship with a man who couldn’t admit his own sexuality out loud?

A relationship?

“Jesus,” she whispered. “Do you hear yourself? Get that nonsense out of your head before you end up with an annihilated heart.”

But even as she said the words, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was too late. If she’d already fallen in too deep with these men to walk away unscathed.

With a sigh, Jazz forced her wobbly limbs to carry her back out into the dining area. She finished her shift with a smile. Thankfully, the rest of the employees seemed oblivious to the fact she’d had a major orgasm in her office. After she closed down the diner, Monty followed her home where she spent an hour stewing in her own frustration.

She wanted to see her men. Wanted to talk to them, touch them. Hell, she just wanted to be in their presence.

“Screw it,” she said, rolling her eyes at the unintended pun.

After bundling back up in her winter gear, she strode outside to where Monty sat in his idling truck. He rolled down the passenger window after she tapped against it. “I’m heading to Screw’s house. He needed me to help him with something.”

“You got it, Jazzy. I’ll follow you there. If you’re gonna be there a while I might take off.”

With a nod she said, “Yeah it’ll be a bit. I’m sure he’ll be fine with you taking a break.”

Monty’s jaw hardened and he reached for the handle of his truck with a muttered, “Fuck.”

“What?” She glanced over her shoulder to find Jeremy emerging from his house. She turned back to Monty who no longer sat in the truck. “Wait, wait, wait,” she said as she ran around the front of his truck. “Hold up.” She placed her hands on Monty’s chest, holding him back from charging.

“That’s the fucker who nearly got Screw killed.”

“Yes. He is. And I want to speak to him. Alone.”

Monty scoffed and looked at her like she’d been speaking in some alien tongue.

“I’m serious. I want two minutes. Just give me that.” The MC world may be filled with alpha boys, but two of those boys were hers—if only for a hot minute—and Jeremy had nearly gotten them killed. Fuck standing on the sidelines.

“I don’t know, Jazz. Screw will have my nuts if he touches you. Tex is already on thin ice because of you fuckin’ ol’ ladies. I don’t need to be there too.”

“Okay, first off, I’m not anyone’s ol’ lady. And second, if he so much as lays a finger on me, you can have at him, okay?” She held her hands up as she took a few steps backward.

Monty rolled his eyes as he folded his thick arms across his chest affecting a decidedly aggressive posture. “Fine but I’m not sitting in the fucking truck.”

“Thank you.” With a nod of appreciation, Jazz strode toward Jeremy, shoulders back, head high. They met on the narrow strip of grass separating their house.

He wore a leather jacket, much as he always did, but this time, a very obvious CDMC prospect patch seemed to stare right at her.

Shit.

“What the fuck, Jeremy?” Not the most diplomatic way to begin the conversation, but she wasn’t feeling too friendly at the moment. In fact, she was edging toward downright murderous.

Apparently, Jeremy wanted to engage as much as she did. He walked straight up to her, invading her personal space with his bigger body until she had to tip her head back to see his face.

“Hey, fucker,” Monty called. “Back the fuck up.” The sound of his boots drawing closer had Jazz extending a hand. “Jazmine,” he growled.

“Why?” she asked. “What the fuck did you have to gain by ratting my friends out?”

“Shit’s changing, babe,” he said with a newfound arrogance. Little boy thinking he could roll with the big boys now that he had a few new friends. “Ain’t gonna be good for your guys. Might wanna switch your allegiance.”

Switch her allegiance? Was he out of his mind? “Jeremy, the Handlers are good guys. I know things didn’t work out with them for you, but—”

“They’re fucking assholes, Jazz, and they’re gonna be driven out of town. Now’s your chance. I can protect you when it all goes down, but you gotta get on board now.” He could protect her? How, by knocking people out with that onion breath?