15. Dax #2
“You really do get hangry when you don’t eat enough.
I knew skipping lunch wasn’t a good idea even if we had a late breakfast.” Cam sighed, grabbing my hand with his own and pulling it up to his lips.
He kissed my fingers. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ve been playing the game twenty-four-seven three-sixty-five for years, and it’s hard to remember I don’t have to when I’m around you and the guys.
I am really good at using my wit to get people to slip up and tell me things they normally wouldn’t.
I’ll work on it, I promise… after you tell me who cooks better. ”
With a growl, I hooked my foot behind his knee and pulled, dropping him to his knees before I twisted and sent him the rest of the way to the ground with a helpful shove of my shoulder against his. “Fucking ridiculous. Why are you always a pain in my ass, Cam?”
Absolutely unfazed by my attack, he just rolled on his back and smiled up at me. “You know, you love me up your ass, beautiful. Especially with something else filling your pussy, making it nice and tight for my cock.”
“That’s true… thanks so much for reminding me about that. Just so we’re clear, you just put yourself on a longer ban for ever getting the chance to do more than talk about it.” I huffed and started to head back into the main warehouse.
“Seriously, man, why the hell do you keep pissing her off?” Cognac asked.
“You can’t tell me having that type of anger directed at you isn’t a turn-on? She’s like an avenging angel coming to strike you down. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Cam explained with a grunt.
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Cognac helping Cam to his feet. It seemed their fight built a camaraderie of sorts. Glad someone likes him right now because I was this close to putting him in time-out and leaving him here.
“Never would have guessed you for one to have a degradation kink. That’s a new one,” I commented. “I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. You’ve always been one to go for the unconventional.”
“Careful, beautiful, you’re the one who has a few unconventional tastes as well,” Cam warned.
“It’s true, I shouldn’t judge. I never wanna be one who kink shames. Everyone needs that special something to get them to the finish line,” I mused.
Before we left, I double-checked my office, making sure it was locked and every alarm was set.
All of us piled back into the SUV and took off to the compound.
With the traffic, it took us about two hours.
I wished I had my bike. Driving on two wheels and weaving through traffic was much more efficient than being in a big gas-guzzling vehicle.
We drove in silence, letting the music from the radio fill the atmosphere.
It was a comfortable silence, one that we all seemed to embrace.
I couldn’t tell if they were more comfortable with each other because of the fight or if it’s just they were too tired to cause any more trouble.
We made it back to the compound while the sun was still setting.
The summer sun was still hot, and it felt like a perfect night to take a dip in the pool.
Thankfully, I still had the swimsuit Tilly had given me to use when we went to the beach.
Otherwise, I’m sure the guys would have talked me into going in my skivvies or with nothing at all.
But that would have required them to make sure no one came near the pool, or else one of them would be stabbing someone, crew or not.
There was something about their possessive nature that gave my dark little heart butterflies, but we didn’t need to be causing more trouble at this point.
Hell, who knew what we’d be returning to or if Dante had shown up yet in his role for whatever part he was going to be playing.
We filed into the house, landing in the living room as Cognac flipped on the television, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.
The first thing that came up was the Evening News.
Plastered across the screen was my house—well, what used to be my house.
Seeing it so casually broadcasting to everyone on the West Coast, or at least in the state of California, pissed me the fuck off.
I couldn’t hold back the anger I’d been able to push back for the day as we made our plan of attack.
Any illusion of being able to relax was now taken from me.
I got to my feet, found a laptop Wes uses while he was here, turned it on, and started doing my own research.
I knew where the files were that Wes kept on all of our competitors or other groups we needed to keep an eye on.
The Mad Dogs had been on my radar in a more cursory aspect.
I knew they were a large growing MC, so I wanted to keep tabs on them.
I had no idea they were so well connected with the De León Cartel and now with Marco in Mexico.
It seems my attitude toward MCs was becoming a hindrance.
Thankfully, I had remedied that now I had the Phantom Saints at my beck and call.
I was always one to learn from my mistakes, never to be caught with my pants down twice.
Scanning over the information Wes already had accumulated, I looked over pictures of their leader, Mastiff, taking in his face and dreaming up different ways I’d be able to kill him.
Would it be fast? Would it be slow? These moments when I let my mind wander through the different torture techniques I had saved for times like this, made me question my morals.
Who was I kidding? I didn’t question shit.
I knew what I was doing, and it had gotten me this far in life. Why should I stop now?