The black-suited man scoffed. “Inside job, and now you’ve tipped off the media in order to turn shit into your favor. Don’t think for one second that I don’t see through your smokescreen. We will out you. All of you. And we’ll get justice for the man that died at your hand.”
I wanted to choke the man out right there on the fucking steps. We all knew who this had been, especially with Mora’s death. This had been the Devil’s Rage. They had concocted a distraction at Clutch in order to filter some of us out of the picture, then they sent a man in to poison the bar upstairs. It made me sick to even think about, but we sure as hell couldn't tell that to anyone, even with proof.
But the last thing we needed was a war with the mafia.
“Excuse me!”
A woman’s voice pulled me from my angry trance, and I spun in her direction. “Who the hell are you?”
She jogged up to me and Fangs stepped in the way. “Leave. You shouldn’t be here.”
But the woman peered over his shoulder and stared at me anyway. “What in the world happened in there?”
“None of your damn business, that’s what.”
“Are you sure about that? Because there are news vans headed in your direction and I figured you might want to get ahead of the craziness that’s about to ensue.”
It didn’t take a genius to know that she was some sort of reporter, and when my eyes dropped to her hand, I saw her phone. Her thumb moved toward the little red button on the screen and I grinned. If she thought she was slick, she’d have to go back to school and do a little more practicing on how to stealthily get information out of someone.
I walked down the steps and slipped in between her and Fangs, cloaking her in my shadow. “I know you’re a journalist, or a reporter of some sort. So, let me make this short and sweet: nothing happened. You need to leave. And if you don’t, we’ll have you arrested for trespassing on private property.”
“I’m standing on the sidewalk.”
Fangs spoke up behind me. “We own the sidewalk that extends to either side of the building.”
The woman held out her arms before she backed up toward the corner of the building. She worked to line herself up with the edge of the brick, then she took the smallest, most infuriating step backward.
“All right, we’re good. Now, want to talk about what happened before I tell my friends that are approaching that your club just got robbed or something?” she asked.
I snickered. “You do whatever it is you feel you need to. But nothing has happened.”
She held up her phone, not even trying to conceal it any longer. “Then, why were people running out of here and screaming their heads off? Was there a fire? Was someone shot?”
Annoyance built up in my voice. “Nothing. Happened.”
She grinned. “Again, are you sure about that?”
Fangs turned to face me. “Ignore her. We have work to do.”
The woman spoke once more. “And what kind of work is that? There a body to clean up or something? Because that would be a hell of a story to report to the vans pulling up behind me.”
My eyes raked down her body and I hated that I found her attractive. In any other world, I would’ve already had her on the back of my fucking bike. But if there was one thing I couldn't stand in this world, it was reporters. Anyone who got their rocks off blasting information to the world just to scrape by and pay their bills.
“Enjoy your evening, Miss,” I said as I turned my back to her.
“If there’s a story to be told, I’ll find it!” she exclaimed.
I waved my hand at her and let that be that, but I knew I’d see that woman again. I knew she’d stick around until she figured out what the hell was going on, which meant I had to come up with something to feed her. She seemed like a woman who had nothing to lose, and that was a very risky opponent to go up against.
However, as I peeked over my shoulder, I couldn’t help but watch that petite little ass of hers sway in the moonlight.
While her pin-straight, dirty blonde hair wafted down her back.
“Come on,” Fangs said as he patted my shoulder, “cops are coming. We gotta get this under control before the news teams set up.”
But as I turned toward the insane crowd gathering before us, sirens sounded off in the distance. Fire truck horns honked and tires squealed, and I knew the rest of the evening would be hell. I threw myself into batting away the news vans and the people that came with them. However, I found myself only partially focused.
Because the rest of my focus was on the sway of that woman’s hips.
