Prince started to look nervous. He went to the door and made sure it was shut. He moved around the room, bent over at a couple other things and did something that looked like disabling a sensor. I just made a mental note to tell Ash everything I saw.
Because he would come. He had to come. Things couldn’t be turning out so fortunately so far and not have it end like this.
“That asshole has fucking run everything in our lives ever since I can fucking remember,” Crush said. “There is no freedom with that motherfucker. None. I’m almost at the fucking point where I don’t care how much pussy, money, and cars come my way for being with that asshat. I’d rather have the fucking freedom to disappear somewhere without being called back to commit a murder. I don’t give a fuck if he’s your daddy, Prince. You know it too.”
“Keep your voice down, you fool,” Prince snapped. “King doesn’t just listen with technology.”
He sighed. Then he looked at me.
“We can’t just keep this bitch here, though. We’ve gotta show my dad something that we did. Just some proof that we weren’t just jerking each other off.”
“Or what?” Crush said. “Is daddy gonna give you a spanking?”
“Don’t fuck around like this, Crush. You know better.”
Crush dropped the sarcasm on the spot. Then he looked at me.
“I’ll do whatever I have to do if it’s needed,” he said, though he looked as conflicted as I’d seen him the entire time. “But Prince. We will crack eventually. You and I are both tired of the boss’ bullshit.”
“Don’t do anything without me,” Prince snapped. “If we’re going to control this club ourselves, we can’t do it alone.”
“That goes without saying,” Crush said.
Prince, to my shock, started to walk toward the door.
“The fuck are you doing?”
“She’s yours,” Prince said. “There are a half-dozen other women in this warehouse waiting to be sold. I’d rather not be Eskimo brothers with you if I can fucking help it.”
“Fair.”
“And let’s not act like the Black Reapers won’t be here at some point,” Prince warned. “Not like them to just leave a good woman unrescued. You better have your gun ready to kill those assholes.”
As if to answer, Crush pulled out the same gun that King had fired at me, waved it at Prince, and holstered it back. Prince nodded.
“If you hear gunfire, it’s standard procedure,” he said. “If King asks about the sensors, you play dumb as a fucking dog.”
“What sensors?”
Prince gave a smirk and a nod, the kind of nod that I couldn’t quite tell if it was sarcasm or quiet understanding. But either way, he then dipped out of the room, shut the door behind him, and left Crush with me. The gruff, red-bearded man sighed and turned to me.
“Your man got in my head more than I ever care to fucking admit,” Crush said.
I bit my lip. Was this a test? Was Crush somehow trying to get me to say something he could use? He may have wanted to overthrow King, but it seemed quite apparent he had no love lost for the Black Reapers—and, by extension, Asher.
“You can make this easy and just let me fuck you,” Crush said. “I’ll tell the boss that you consented and made it easy. I can’t go back to face him without proof.”
It probably sounded to Crush like the world’s easiest proposition. In a sense, it was.
Just not the way he was thinking.
“Absolutely not,” I said. “If I wouldn’t suck off King while he had a gun pointed at my head, what the hell makes you think I’ll let you do anything to me?”
Crush snorted.
“This is very unlike me,” he said, “but I can just as easily turn back into the wild animal, the monster that your boy and his friends are terrified of. They think of me as a demon, and there’s a good reason for that.”
“But clearly, there’s more to it than that,” I said.
