“If issues like that arise, we always have your back.”
“Yeah, right,” Marty scoffed, rolling her eyes and not trying in the least to hide her disgust.
“You can always come to?—“
“You? You specifically? Or the Sinners? Because either way, I think you guys are full of—“ The blonde pulled Marty back and covered her mouth with her hand. Mary moved between Marty and me before she looked around at her staff.
“I think what Griffin is trying to say is, if anything ever happens like what happened last week with Mr. Mono—“ She caught herself and pressed her lips together. “I mean the member and staff, you don’t hesitate to come to me or any of my managers for help. Discretion is not just for the members but to keep you safe.” She turned to look at Marty, and a knot formed in the pit of my gut.
Fuck, had someone tried to put their hands on my girl? I kept calling her mine in my head, and I had only known her for a handful of minutes.
“You can always come to any of the Steel Sinners. We are always going to have your back,” I promised, never taking my eyes off hers while she stared back at me like I was the lowest of the low.
The staff nodded politely, quietly recognizing what I’d just said. The awkwardness of the room started to fade away as Mary quickly called out everyone’s assignment for the day, much the way I’d seen her do when I’d come down with Stone before a ride or something. Everyone got moving. All while ignoring me or avoiding making eye contact.
Shit, I’d really stuck my foot in it this time. Made a great first impression with the beautiful spitfire, who had somehow been in the same building as me without me knowing.
Is she new to the casino? I doubted it with how she silently communicated something with Mary or the way Mary had stood between us as if she worried I’d get upset and want to get rid of her myself. As if. If anything, I wanted to keep her, wrap my inked-up arms around her tiny curvy body and protect her from the world.Protect her from... What the fuck is wrong with me?I didn’t do the whole feelings shit. I shook the thoughts away and tried to focus.
“I think that went as well as could have been… expected,” Mary said politely. I winced.
“I’m sorry about that, Mary,” I apologized, and someone snorted behind me.
I wasn’t surprised to find my spitfire standing there with her arms crossed, pushing her deliciously glorious chest together and giving me just a hint of the cleavage that lay below as the buttons of her uniform strained for mercy. Jesus, I’d never had a thing about uniforms, but filthy, disgustingly dirty things popped into my head as I stared at my spitfire. All of them had her wearing all sorts of different getups.
“Marty.” The warning in Mary’s voice was clear, and my cock fucking thickened knowing she wasn’t going to take heed.
“Do you know what you just did?” she asked me with fury in her tone and smoke almost coming out of her ears. And fuck me, if I didn’t find it cute as fuck.
“What did I do?” I tried not to let myself grin.
“Marty,” Mary stepped in, “leave Griffin alone. He has no idea what Mr. Monop—“ She stopped herself and sighed. “I mean that member did to you.”
“You?” I repeated, and suddenly, everything inside of me started to heat up. Mary sighed with frustration at her misspeaking, but all I could think about was some privileged member touching my spitfire.
“Nor did he know who he attacked. I mean—“ Mary tried to correct, but it was too late. This fucking asshole had attacked her?
“Attacked?” I stepped closer, and for some reason, I reached out for Marty, tagging her delicate wrist and pulling her close, inspecting her from head to toe.
From what I could see, she wasn’t marked. No faint marks from fading bruises or healing cuts. But I lived in Vegas, and my usual spot was working at the club’s downstairs. I’d seen how talented women could get with makeup. They could hide anything. My eyes strained for a hint as I tried to calm my breathing. What the hell was wrong with me? I’d never had such a visceral reaction to a woman in my life. Like just the sight of her was enough for my soul to recognize she was mine. I sure as hell wasn’t going to question it. I’d learned a long time ago to trust my gut.
“What did he do to you?” I asked through gritted teeth. If I could go back in time, I would want to be the one who handed that motherfucker a warning. I didn’t care if I wasn’t a damnenforcer; I would have gladly volunteered to get my hands dirty for her.
“What?” Her brows bunched, and my jaw ticked.
“Marty,” I said her name for the first time, and those fathomless dark eyes stared right up at me. “What did he?—“
“I’m okay,” she whispered softly, softer than she probably spoke to anyone else. I had no idea how the fuck I knew that, but I could sense it. Just like I could sense she was mine. A throat cleared, and I blinked, reminding myself that we weren’t alone. “I should get going,” she said, stepping back and away from me.
Every inch of distance between us felt wrong, like I was losing a physical part of myself. the loss deep and profound. Marty’s eyes stayed trained on me as she walked out of the breakroom, and I lost sight of her when she walked through the doorway and went down the hall.
“Griffin.” Mary’s voice cut through, and I took a deep breath. I didn’t say anything as my gaze locked with hers. A knowing brow rose a little higher, along with her chin. “Marty is a good girl. Pain in the ass and stubborn as hell but a good one.” There was an edge to her voice that made me wonder if she was warning me away from her or warning me about her.
“Okay,” I said because regardless of what she was trying to say, it wouldn’t matter. Not to me. By her heavy sigh and clear disapproval on her face, she knew exactly where I stood.
“She’s also a big girl who knows how to take care of herself.” Again, slightly ominous but not terrifying.
“I can see that.” I felt pride that wasn’t mine to have but felt either way. Jesus, my spitfire was incredible. Feisty and brave. I hated whatever the fuck she’d been through, but I would find a way to make it better. I had a feeling with how she looked at me, this pull I felt toward her wasn’t just a one-way street, either.
