“Z, you’ve got less than a nano-second to tell me what the two of you were discussing, or that dick you’re so fond of is coming off.”
“Savvy wants to hook up later, Mellie made the assumption that Sav and I are an item, and I set her straight on Sav being a willing pussy,” Zombie blurts as he lowers his hands to cover his crotch.
Lyric swings his gaze to me. “That true?”
“Yep.”
He returns his stare to his VP. “Your tally whacker is safe for now.”
Zombie visibly relaxes, his shoulders slumping. “Thank fuck.”
Dismissing his brother, Lyric focuses on me. “There are a few people I’d like you to meet, if you’re feeling up to it.”
I eye him skeptically. “Are they people I’ve met before?”
He smiles and shakes his head. “No. All new people.”
I link my fingers with his without giving it a second thought.
“I’d love to meet them.”
18
LYRIC
“You going to be okay?”
The party for Rowdy broke up a little over an hour ago. Most of the visiting brothers went to bed to sleep off the alcohol they consumed, while others paired up with club whores. The ones who didn’t have been drinking coffee and reminiscing about my dad.
Mellie’s leaning against the wall outside the spare room, and her face is flushed from drinking. She’s beautiful, and it’s killing me to know that she wants and needs space to heal.
“I’m fine,” I tell her.
“Bullshit.”
Arching a brow, I smirk. “You’re calling my bluff?”
She masks her expression like she’s afraid she’ll piss me off. “No.”
Sighing, I shove my hands in my pockets, so I don’t reach for her. “Today sucked,” I admit. “Saying goodbye to my dad is the second hardest thing I’ve ever dealt with.”
“What’s the first?”
“Having you look at me like I’m a stranger.” Her lips part on a soft gasp. “It’s okay, Mellie. It is what it is at this point, and I know it’ll get better.”
“How do you know that?” she asks, genuine curiosity in her tone.
“Because we’re soulmates,” I reply simply, placing a kiss on her forehead. “G’night, Mel.”
I force myself to walk away without looking back. When I enter the common room, I see Zombie hustling in my direction, Trick and Undertaker hot on his heels.
This can’t be good.
“Pres, we’ve got a problem,” Trick says before the three of them reach me.
“What?” I bark.
Undertaker’s expression hardens, and he snarls, “Just got a call from the security company for Death’s Door. There was a break in.”
