“That’s fine. Take someone with you,” I order. “No one conducts any club business alone.”
“I’ll go,” Goose says.
“Thanks.” I turn to Undertaker. “Death’s Door back up and running?”
“Aw, Pres, you know it is,” Scrubs whines.
“I know you cleaned it up,” I say. “But that doesn’t nece?—”
“It’s up and running,” Undertaker barks. “In fact, we’ve got a funeral scheduled for the end of the week.”
“Who?” Zombie asks.
“One of the Shadow Sixes we killed,” he replies with a sadistic chuckle.
“Who set that up?” I demand.
“It was the guy’s sister,” he explains. “None of the other funeral homes would take her calls.” He shrugs. “Felt bad for her and figured we could kill two birds with one stone. Help her out while making a little money.”
“Let’s not forget that it sets us up to potentially interrogate other gang members and relatives,” Zombie drawls.
“Yeah, it does,” I confirm. “But we won’t do it during the funeral. I’m not that cold-hearted. Wait until the casket is removed from the building at least.”
“He’s actually being cremated,” Undertaker says.
“Then wait until the fucker’s family is out of the building. We won’t harass them, but everyone else is fair game.”
“This should be fun,” Quake says, rubbing his hands together.
“That’s what worries me,” I mutter.
23
MELLIE
“Rise and shine.”
I yank the quilt over my head and roll away from Lyric. He’s made a point to come to my room every morning since my fight with Peach, and while I love him to pieces, I also love to sleep in.
“No,” I grumble when he repeats himself.
He swats my ass, and the sting goes right to my clit. “C’mon, Mellie. Time to get up.”
“Why?” I whine, trying to keep a grip on the blanket when he starts to pull it down.
“What if I told you it’s a surprise?”
“I’d remind you that I don’t like surprises,” I gripe, finally letting him yank the quilt away.
I turn so I’m facing him and do my best to glare, but it’s impossible when my eyes land on his naked torso. As I let my gaze fall to the top of his unbuttoned jeans and that deep V that leads to his cock, music fills my mind.
“I bet I can guess what you’re thinking,” he taunts.
Lifting my stare to his, I roll my eyes. “I highly doubt that.”
“‘Pour Some Sugar On Me’ by Def Leppard is running through your head like your own private concert.”
“How the hell did you know that?”
