Chapter 21 #2
“I didn’t want to invest too much in them and you still not like them,” Storm admits.
“I’ve shot guns that were worse,” Marie adds, nonplussed.
Arsenal grins smugly, openly his bag. I pull Marie into my lap as we sit, and I can hear Wilder walking through the hallway toward us. I wonder if Lore is listening from somewhere nearby while we all talk. I can feel him, I just can’t tell where he is exactly.
For all I know, he’s taking a shit.
Arsenal shows off a Springfield nine millimeter, saying, “This will be a dream after the others, Little Queen. There’s very little kick. One thing to sometimes worry about is expelled casings, and this thirty-eight millimeter won’t spit back at you.”
He pulls out the thirty-eight revolver that he’s talking about and I nod in agreement.
“I also wanted to get you something pretty,” Arsenal says with a shrug, pulling out a Kimber to show her.
“Now you’re flirting with my girl,” Wilder laughs, leaning over to admire it. He joined us quietly, simply observing.
“I’m flirting with the pretties,” Arsenal confirms, grinning. “See what you think, Marie.”
My girl picks up the Springfield, testing the weight, and checking to see how it feels with a nod. She goes through that process with all three, and Arsenal chuckles when he sees she’s having a difficult time choosing.
“They’re all yours,” he says. “Ha. As if I’d bring you all these pretty guns and then make you decide which one you wanted. Ain’t no way.”
“Arsenal,” Marie sighs. “I can’t take all of these.”
“Yes, you can,” I say, holding my hand out next to hers to reference. “Who else is he going to give them to?”
“Arsenal put thought into these,” Wilder adds.
“You’re all going to spoil me,” she grumbles.
“Couldn’t happen to a better person,” Arsenal says. “Now, this is a nice knife, Marie. Where did you get it?”
He admires it as he flicks it open with the button, and I have to agree with him. It has a black handle, I hear Arsenal mumble to himself that it appears to be made of titanium. The blade is sharp, which is what matters, and it looks lightweight.
“Where’d you get this?” he asks.
“My brother’s omega found me at lunch a couple of weeks back,” Marie explains. “She gave me the stun gun too almost a year ago. Cerenity doesn’t play about being able to defend yourself.”
“I like the knife a lot,” Arsenal says approvingly. “Here’s an option for an upgrade on the stun gun though. That’s not going to stop someone who actually wants to hurt you.”
“Arsenal,” Storm groans. “She likes to fry knots for shits and giggles. I would like to be able to get my omega pregnant at some point. Come on.”
“Don’t be a baby,” Arsenal says, waving his words off. “I have a few options, Marie. They’re all yours if you like them, so don’t feel like you need to choose just one. This one slides over your knuckles, see?”
In a way, they remind me of brass knuckles, and I can feel Marie flinch when he turns them on. There is an audible pop of electricity, and then she’s grinning.
“This would have been awesome when I was working at the hospital initially here,” she says. Wilder makes a face, and I wonder if that’s because they’d never allow her to walk alone. “It would fit well in my pocket. What about if I need to push someone away from me and I need the reach?”
“Then, you’ll want more of a baton-like stun gun,” he says, pulling it out of the bag. “What’s the holster situation that you have for it?”
“Will you unhook it for me, please, Ransom?” she asks, twisting to look over her shoulder. “It’s kind of a pain without undressing otherwise.”
Nodding, I slide my hands under her sweatshirt, enjoying how soft her skin is. Marie wiggles slightly in my lap, making me amused. Wilder sits beside us and elbows my arm, silently telling me not to fuck around.
What? It’s really difficult not to forget myself around Marie.
Getting to it, I unsnap the clasps for the holsters and pull it down, handing it to Arsenal.
“All of this just fits off your bra,” Arsenal mutters, amazed.
“Well shit. That’s cool as fuck. So, this will fit the baton.
It’ll be a little longer than your other stun gun, but I think it’s fine.
Of course, if you’re wearing something like a backless dress, it won’t work.
How are you planning to get around that? ”
“I have a couple of thigh holsters,” Marie says. “I can also strap one to my stomach. It’ll be a little bit of a reach depending on the neckline, but odds are I won’t need to be wearing my own armory if I’m in a dress. A gun and a knife will probably suffice.”
“That’s true,” he grunts. “Alright, so that’s the fun stuff, Little Queen. As always, practice with your new weapons, check the draw, and go from there.”
“As fun as it is to watch Arsenal play, is there a reason why we’re here?” Nick asks, crossing his arms across his chest.
“You mean other than to see me?” Marie asks, getting comfortable against me.
Lore moved his bike so the guys wouldn’t see it, which means his presence is still a secret.
“We need alcohol for this,” Wilder grumbles, standing.
Nick, Burner, and Arsenal glance at each other, trying to decide if they want to sit or not.
“Are you going to make me drink alone?” Marie asks.
She’s really good at calming down a room. There’s a certain charm to her, and Storm rolls his eyes as he takes Wilder’s place beside me.
“Honestly, are you?” he asks.
“Fuck me,” Burner groans, pulling out a section of the couch to sit on it. “I think I really like this couch over what you had before. I’m kind of impressed.”
“You’re an idiot,” Nick snorts, sitting as well.
Wilder returns with booze and glasses, stating, “I’ll have dinner ready in the next half hour. It’s in the oven.”
“What is it?” Arsenal asks, his stomach rumbling.
“A pot roast,” Wilder murmurs. “Bet you could do with a home cooked meal, huh?”
“Ugh, you’re an asshole. You’re using food against me, Prez,” Arsenal groans, sitting at last.
“That’s what I wanted to talk about,” Wilder says, unscrewing the top of the bottle and putting out cups on the table. “Have you heard of the biker that people are calling Ghost?”
“Yeah, actually,” Burner says, taking the glasses as Wilder hands them out.
We’ve been ordering things for the house now that everyone is home, and these glasses are nice, heavy tumblers. Hopefully none of them go flying at the walls tonight.
Our guests tend to be rough on the household items.
The first glass goes to Marie, and only I notice the slight tremble in her hand.
“I heard he’s taking credit for the hit on Lyker’s club. Is that true?” Arsenal asks.
“Lyker did claim that a ghost massacred his people,” I reply. Arsenal and Burner were there and they nod, remembering.
“Would it be the worst thing if this Ghost did kill them?” Marie asks seriously.
“No,” Arsenal murmurs.
“It would just be a matter of ensuring that he’s not systematically killing entire clubs for shits and giggles,” Nick adds.
“That’s true,” Storm says. “I haven’t heard any chatter that he’s targeting other clubs. It could be a one time thing.”
“So why are we talking about him?” Burner asks. “You don’t shoot the shit, Prez. None of you do. Little Queen, you fucking hate small talk.”
“You’re right,” Wilder says. “The thing is…”
“I am Ghost,” Lore rumbles, walking into the living room.
Goddamnit. Leave it to him to make a grand entrance.