“Cleo,” Wraith snapped, and she hiked her brows. “Inside.”
Wraith caught Joker taking the bags of ice from her arms before he walked into the house. There were still a few brothers gathered in the main room. It was where they had all their meetings with outsiders. Their private room was for MC meetings only. Killcreek had always been careful not to allow many inside their private domain. It gave them an upper hand knowing the complete layout of the clubhouse. And it left the club in a vulnerable position if ambushed or attacked. It’d happened once.It won’t fucking happen again.
Wraith rounded the bar, grabbed a beer, and stood near the counter. It was intentional. The prospects would have to pass him to unload the ice bags.
Cleo walked in, waving to the brothers. “Hi.”
Her greeting was returned with the usual grunts, chin nods, and ignoring it by others. When the prospects walked in with the ice, Cypher pointed to Cleo and narrowed his eyes.
“You do their job, it makes life easier on them. That means we gotta make it harder.”
Cleo widened her eyes. “Well, you don’thaveto.”
Cypher stared momentarily then turned his head, and his lips twitched. None of the brothers would ever be described as soft. But there were a few who were lighter with her. It could’ve stemmed from working with her on a daily basis. But Wraith knew it went a little deeper. Some brothers were more privy to Cleo’s unfortunate past. Cypher was one of them.
“But we will.” Oak, one of the younger members, laughed, grabbing his beer and chugging half. “You’re too fucking nice, Cleo.”
Yeah, she is.
“No such thing.” The soft chime of her giggle sounded through the room.
Oak gestured to her. “Uh, yeah there is, and you’re the perfect fucking example.”
“You get more bees with honey.”
The room was drowned in silence. She had a knack for silencing a room, but not in the way Killcreek did. Half the things that came out of her mouth, confused the hell out of most brothers. Wraith sipped his beer, watching their reactions. She was the polar opposite of everyone in the room.
Oak practically choked on his beer, laughing. “What?”
She walked to the edge of the table, grabbing the back of the empty chair. “The nicer you are to other people, the better chance they’ll be nice to you.”
Ah fuck, not this again.Her line of thinking would be her downfall.
Oak arched his brow, smirked, and pointed to her. “So this is all an act?”
She darted her eyes, scanning all the men. She wasn’t used to being called out or in the hot seat. Most days, a greeting or an order was all she got from the members.
“No. I treat everyone the way I want them to treat me. If I’m mean and rude, the odds are they’ll be the same in return.”
“That’s bullshit.” Oak rolled his eyes.
Cleo shrugged. “That’s your opinion.”
Oak cocked his brow, doubling down. “It’s a fact.”
“In your mind, I’m sure it is.” Cleo glanced over her shoulder when Joker walked in with the last bag of ice.
Just the fucking asshole I was waiting on.
Cleo rushed toward Joker as he passed Wraith. “Can I help?”
“No,” Wraith snapped, and she flinched but didn’t move away. He turned to the prospect. “Picking up ice is your fucking job.”
Joker parted his lips, but Wraith was instantly distracted when Cleo slid her hand on his forearm. “I don’t mind.”
Wraith steeled his reaction to her touch. It didn’t happen toooften. Most people knew better than to put their hands on him without permission. It only ended in one way and not good for the one on the receiving end. Cleo was the exception. His muscles tightened, and his blood burned through his veins. When the pads of her fingers lightly caressed over his skin, he balled his fists. A move that would make most men calm had a different reaction for him. Her touch stirred a desire, a need, and demanded a controlled response.
Wraith clenched his jaw. “I. Do.”
