I groan and rub at my temples. “Fuck. Yes, we do.”
Shaking my head, I walk over to the two men still fighting in front of my car, now covered in mud and blood. I wait for an opening and reach down, grabbing them both by the hair right at the nape of their neck and pulling them away from each other. “Enough! Roman, quit antagonizing Wylder. He’s Vivianne’s friend, too, and trust me, she’s got her hands full.”
“Hear, hear!” Viv’s sarcastic support sounds from the sidelines.
I continue, “Wylder, Roman is just getting used to how things are around here. Give him time and play nice. I can’t have his face messed up for court.”
I let them both go, smiling softly to myself as they both reach up to rub at where I had a handle on their hair.
Roman is the first to stand, leaning over to place a quick kiss on my cheek. “That was hot, Little Moth.”
Wylder follows him up and rolls his eyes. “Let’s go find a good place to watch, it’s about to start.” He turns toward Viv, “I assume you let Markus know we were here?”
She nods, “As soon as I saw you pull in. He’s in the booth waiting for you.”
Wylder walks over, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me to him for a single, bruising kiss. “No fear, no worth.”
I smile into his lips, sliding my tongue in his mouth just long enough to flick his own. “No fear, no worth.”
I watch as he makes his way over to the betting booth with Roman hot on his heels, his head swinging from side to side as he takes everything in. Viv joins me at my side, watching the two men make their way through the crowd.
“Wylder’s gotten a bit more…public? Territorial? I don’t know the word for it, but it was hot.”
I shrug, “I think having Roman around has given him a scare. Roman’s clearly interested and even though I don’t think I could ever be with someone like him ever again…there’s something magnetic there.”
Viv looks over at me, her boots giving her an extra few inches on me when we’re normally the same height. “What are you going to do about it?”
I let out a sigh and turn around, getting into the car. “I’m going to do what I have to do and maybe have a little fun in the meantime.”
She shuts the door behind me as I crank up the vehicle, the immediate purr of the engine bringing mea sense of peace only this car can. My body knows I’m about to get a shot of adrenaline so strong I’ll be riding high for days.
“Just be careful, Evie. You know this isn’t a normal case, and what happened at that club was not how things were supposed to go down.”
I hear Markus, the owner of the track and one of our closest friends, announce that the race is about to start, giving me an out to a conversation I am not ready to have yet. “Time to drive.”
Chapter 11
Roman
Growing up in the mafia, we had family dinners and parties all the time. People would dress in their finest and we would have caterers to make anything our heart desired before waitresses delivered it to us on silver platters. The men would have guns hidden under their suits and the women would be laughing in the corner while getting drunk on the world’s most expensive champagne.
Needless to say, a weekend cookout in Wylder’s backyard isnotwhat I’m used to.
Wylder is by the grill cooking food for everyone with Eve by his side, placing it all on metal pans when it’s done. Viv is over by Wylder’s shed, hooking her phone up to the speakers and talking to not only her boyfriend, Deric, but their girlfriend Tara as well. Sawyer, Eve and Vivianne’s boss, is here with his wife and their daughter, and Wylder’s parents just walked through the back doors with arms filled with dessert platters.
Everyone is pitching in – including me.
Eve has put me in charge of setting up the tables and chairs and…I don’t think I’m doing this right. It’s definitely lopsided.
Viv’s girlfriend Tara walks over with her hands on her hips and a smile on her face. “Need help?”
I look down at the red and black checkered tablecloth and give her a nod. “Please. I’ve got two more of these to do and the wind is about to make me lose my mind.”
She laughs and holds up a finger, “I’ll be right back.”
I fight with the tablecloth while she’s gone, groaning as the wind tries to carry it away and muttering to myself, “Why do we need tablecloths anyway?”
“Reinforcements have arrived.”
