That doesn’t mean we don’t have a few TVs on the wall, a long bar against one side, tables scattered around, and a few couches spread out all about the room.
Several of my brothers were looking in our direction. Taking Della’s hand, I guide her farther inside. “Come meet my brothers, little mouse.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
Della’s nervous and not hiding it.
I wasn’t lying to her when I said she didn’t have a poker face.
Dipping down, I murmur in her ear, “You’ll be all right, baby.”
Della nods as we approach the table.
“Mammon, Tormentor, Dread, this is Della. Baby, these are my brothers.” I give her a squeeze as I introduce her.
“Zayne Cross?” Della asks, looking in Tormentor’s direction.
A twinge of jealousy courses through my veins at Della’s use of my brother’s name and not his road name.
“That’s me, darlin’,” Tormentor drawls out, grinning up at her. “How you been doin’?”
What the fuck is with the flirting with my woman?
“Just moved home,” she answers, leaning into my side.
“See that.” Tormentor’s grin widens, not missing her movement. “Take it you’re Shadow’s new woman?”
“She’s mine, brother,” I growl, claiming the woman at my side. “Don’t even try to pull any bullshit.”
“Wouldn’t think of it.” Tormentor loses his grin, his expression sobering. “Gotta make sure you claimed her before someone else tried some dumb shit. Think you said it loud enough for everyone here to hear you.”
“Fucker,” I grunt.
“What does that mean? Claim her?” Della asks, tilting her head, looking at me for the answer.
“Means, little mouse, you’re mine, and they need to know it. They won’t fuck with you.”
“They’ll respect you as our VP’s ol’ lady.”
“Ol’ lady?”
Damn if Della isn’t cute when she’s confused by something and trying to figure it out.
“Means you’re my woman. In our world being claimed as an ol’ lady is a high fuckin’ honor to have.”
“Oh,” she draws out on a whisper, her cheeks tinting pink.
“Come on.” I tug her with me as I step around the table. “We’ll be back in a few.”
“Damn, VP, didn’t take you for a minute man,” Dread shouts, laughing.
“Fuck you, Dread,” I throw over my shoulder at the men all chuckling. “That would be you who can’t go longer than a minute or two unless the bitch is looser than a greased tailpipe.”
It wasn’t true, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t throw shit at him
“That’s fucked up, Shadow,” Dread scoffs.
“Maybe so, but you fuck around more than any of us. You should be able to go longer than you do. Need a pill of something to make you last longer?”
