“No, no.” I close my eyes when he presses a kiss to my forehead, loving the way he calls me his little menace. “At least not like that. My knees are scraped, and Imma have bruises for days.”
“If I could dig him up and kill him again, I would.” He promises pulling me into the deep well of his embrace.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you.” The words are rough, and he whispers them into my hair.
“It’s not on you. The only people at fault are the ones who tried it, and we see where that got them.” Speaking into his broad chest, I take comfort in his arms.
“There is still more reckoning to come. I still have more work to put in. It’s not that I don’t want you around.” He pulls back so I can see the truth of his words.
“I’m not wiling to risk you. The way I went about it is fucked up, but for the most part the threat from the crew is gone. We still have to solidify Angel’s claim and dismantle Rudy’s network. That’s gonna take time, but once it’s done —” he pauses, and I can see the battle raging within him.
All of a sudden, I realize there is more at stake than Angel’s control of el Diablo’s cartel arm. No, Snake is talking about us. Has he really thought about it — about us? Is he even now struggling?
Do I want to be a problem he has to solve? Why does it have to be so hard for him?
“Once it’s done, then what?” I step away from the warmth of his arms, shaking my head. “You can finally let yourself feel something for me other than irritation? Annoyance?” Sniffing back tears, I hate myself for even asking, and I hate him too.
“It’s not like that. Fuck.” He casts a look of those exact emotions my way.
“And what happens until you finally decide to come off your high horse, Primo?” I sneer at his second-in-command moniker. “You get to fuck Bianca, the twin-cousins and whoever else and throw them in my face as a constant reminder of how I can’t satisfy you?”
My nose burning from the hurt and fury eating at me, my eyes welling with tears I refuse to shed. I may be tipsy, but I’ve never been dumb.
“You’re just using them when I’m what you really want.” My words are soft, but my eyes are hard as I cast him a hateful look before grabbing my cocoa and then disappearing into my room, praying I don’t ruin my dramatic ass exit by having a night-terror.
Chapter five
A QUEEN TO BE…
SNAKE
OTW — Angel
“Alright, let’s get ready. Padre, bring our queen’s throne up and place it beside el Presidente’s.” After reading Angel’s text, in rapid-fire succession I snap orders to the rest of the crew and other riders on loan from other clubs for the celebration tonight.
“Angel should be here in fifteen minutes,” I tell Ellie, who’s pouring heavy into the glasses of some of the other cartel bosses in attendance.
“Aight.” She winks at me, showing she has her domain under control.
Tracking movements around the room, I take note of every el Diablo member, making sure they are stationed strategically throughout the clubhouse.
This is neutral territory. If anyone did dirt, they would be killed, and their entire club disbanded for acting dishonorably after being offered hospitality by a fellow MC. That includes following our rules about our women having a choice in who they want to spend time with. Unlike most of the other clubs, thewomen, hang-arounds and sweet butts alike, get to choose in el Diablo.
Still, I put nothing past some of these motherfuckers. Some are of the same school of thought as Rudy and his ilk and have made no secret they’d like to deal with him. Like Marco, the president of the Ghost Reapers, who seemed to be a little more than put off that Angel prevailed, if the mostly reliable network of informers we have in place is correct. It got back to us the motherfucker even axed the messenger when he heard Rudy was put down.
I’m not surprised. The Ghost Reapers rule Miami and have a particular interest in the skin trade, which is something Angel and I both abhor.
El Diablo has made it clear in blood that we have a no women and kids policy. We won’t interfere with your business, but it is absolutely a FUCK NO for us.
Marco is a smooth operator and smart, but the rumor is he’d be more than happy with a change in command with el Diablo. His being present is not to show his support of Angel de La Muerta, but to demonstrate he’s not in fear of him. A fact not lost on either of us. Giving him a nod of acknowledgement and nothing more as he holds court at a table dead center of the club with a clear view of the stage as Angel commanded, so he witnesses the honor bestowed on Ezekiel-Jane with no filter. I survey the rest of the men who will keep order and put in the necessary orders if needed.
“Aye.” Turning, I nod to Rocco, who is practically bristling in anticipation of what is to come. He’s in charge of Easy’s security.
“Ready?” I ask, already anticipating the curt nod. More than anyone, he takes this seriously.
“Yep.” His gaze tracks around the room, no different from mine had earlier. “Ghost Reapers, I don’t trust’em.”
“Hmph.” I grunt in agreement. We never deal with them outside of when our paths need to cross.
