Ollie huffs for a second but then runs to the passenger seat and gets in. I make a note that we’re going to need to get Milly a new ride. I don’t mind the chauffeur part as much anymore, but I doubt she wants it to last forever. I also wouldn’t mind if I got to ride my bike with my woman at my back one of these days.
“Walker.”
“Huh?”
I grab her by the belt loops and pull her close. “The prospect we took with us to Russia. He’s the one who got patched in.”
“And the story behind him being called Walker?”
I shrug as if it’s obvious. “’Cause the guy looked like one of those damn zombie thingies from that show. He went with Kooper and Micky but got separated. When they found him, he was covered in blood and just rolled with it. Killed everything he saw and just kept going. He used a damn machete almost every time, and I’ve got no clue where he found it. I suited him up with two Desert Eagles and an AR-15 when we went in, but he only had the long-ass knife left when we walked out. He didn’t even shake off the blood till everyone else was sewn up. Fucker didn’t have a single wound on him, was just covered in blood as if he did.”
“Right. Makes sense, because Zombie Killer and Machete are already taken.”
“Exactly.” I give her a quick kiss, then smack her delectable ass hard. “Now get in the truck before you make us any later.”
“We’re late? When the hell did this thing start? And how can I make us late if I didn’t even know it was happening?” she asks over her shoulder but does as I say. She crawls in from the driver’s side to sit in the middle, wiggling that fine piece of meat of hers in my face.
“Women are always the reason a man’s late.” Ollie’s words have her mouth dropping open as he looks at me like it’s something he learned from me.
I laugh. “See, he gets it.”
She crosses her arms and glares out the window as we take off, dog barking in the back the whole way. “You’re going to get it,” she mutters, but as the deep chuckle leaves my lips, and I slide my hand between her thighs and pull her closer to me, I don’t miss the smile that spreads across her face.
“Looking forward to it, baby.”
“Your roommate going to make it out?” Milly asks Ruby as she and Abigail sit on one side of the outdoor tables the club set up. I’m sitting beside them but pretending not to listen.
“Nah, think you guys scared her,” she says as she drinks her beer.
“Why you looking at me?” Milly points to her chest and speaks to Abigail, who gives her a pointed look.
She shrugs as she looks away. “She was fine before you came around,Brooklyn,” she says with extra emphasis on a nickname Milly somehow got from this place.
“Just get used to it. You cause people to be uneasy,” Ruby adds as if it’s fine.
Milly scoffs. “How many times do I have to tell people that I’m not going to put a hit out on someone just because my brother is the head of our mafia family?”
Ruby looks to Abigail, then to me, before addressing Milly. “Ah, I was talking about the little show you put on for the boys. You know, where you kicked your man’s ass.”
I snort at her as she gestures to me. I didn’t get my ass kicked. Just got smacked around a bit.
“Oh, that.” At least my girl has the decency to look a bit appalled by her actions. Very little, that is.
“Yeah,that.” Ruby leans back, kicking her heels up onto the table.
“He’s not my man.”
“Sure.” Abigail grins, and Ruby giggles.
Milly glares, and I just smirk—hiding it behind my beer, of course. Don’t want her wrath on me just yet. I might get a hard-on, but I also want to spend some time with my brothers too.
“Shut it, princess,” Milly snaps.
“As you wish,Brooklyn.”
“Hey, lasses.” Mickey limps over slowly, and I give him a chin lift.
“Hey, Mickey. Hiding from General?” Ruby asks with a sparkle in her eye. You wouldn’t know how devastated she is by her dad’s passing unless you look closely. She’s putting on a front, and if you weren’t close to her, you wouldn’t know. But I do. And I know everyone else does too. But no one is talking about it. We’re all going by the way she is, which is pretending it didn’t happen.
