“I think that you’re fucking Wynter, and that’s fucking not right,” Death growls, poking my chest with his finger.
Death is my best friend; we’re close, like blood brothers.
Fuck!
I run my fingers through my hair, nodding. I look at him. He’s pissed off, but I’m not just fucking her.
“Brother, I claimed Wynter, she’s my Old Lady, and I’m planning on telling the brothers at Church,” I scoff, staring at him to see what his thoughts are.
I watch his confusion; then his lips curl, lip slapping my back, nodding.
“Fucking hell! Why didn’t you tell me that you cared for my sister,” Death asks, furrowing his forehead?
“I didn’t want to fall for her, but she’s mine; I claimed her regardless of my concerns,” I say, narrowing my eyelids, focusing on his face to gauge his reaction.
Death knows who I am since I saved his ass in the Navy with my healing power and a little blood.
“Fuck! Did you tell her,” Death asks, taking a pull of his beer?
“Not yet, but I will,” I say, taking a drag of my cigarette.
“Fuck, that’s fucking heavy shit,” Death snaps, running his fingers through his hair.
“Indeed, that’s why I’m going to wait to tell her,” I say, bringing the beer bottle to my lips.
“Fucking hell, welcome to the family,” Death snarls, giving me a bromance hug.
“Motherfucker, I know that you didn’t believe for a second that I was just tapping Wynter,” I growl, punching his oversize arm.
“Of fuckingcourse, I was not going to let you off easy. She’s my fucking baby sister, asshole,” Death snarls, grabbing his beer takes a long pull.
I take a pull of my beer, thinking of what he said.
“I wouldn’t do that to her motherfucker; she owns my soul,” I huff, glaring at him.
“Right, I had to make sure that you motherfucker, step up,” Death says, nodding.
“Indeed,” I growl, taking a drag of my cigarette.
“Motherfucker, we’re good,” Death scoff, his lips turning up in a fucking smirk.
Asshole.
“Indeed,” I say, looking at him through my lower eyelids.
“Well, good luck because I don’t know how my bros will take this,” Death says, a deep chuckle erupts from his chest.
“Fucker,” I say, finishing off my beer.
“Let’s go; it’s time for Church,” Death says, pushing off the stool.
He walks towards the thick steel door leading into the highly secured area that only patched brothers can enter. That’s where the bedrooms, the Chapel where Church takes place, and the IT room.
Of fuckingcourse, the Vault is located in the other building on the property, but it’s fucking hidden basement, located inside a room in the building’s center.
We walk into the Chapel, taking our chairs; the brothers all start to enter. The Prez and VP are looking at us, ready to start Church.
“Close the door, Scorpion,” War barks, lifting his chin, lowering his eyelids he leans back into his chair.
