Page 107 of Road to Absolution

CHAPTER 22

Many Shades of Art

THREE WEEKS LATER

Blink! Blink!

It was early on a Saturday morning. Tuck and I were outside minding our own business, working on a bike, but Viola had found us and was talking gibberish.

Wiping grease from my hands, I asked, “Viola, what the fuck is a ‘delivery gift’?”

There were brothers around, so I tried to stand strong, holding my man card, loud and proud. But… red lips pursed, and a hip popped out, she then placed a hand on it.

Tucker and I took a step backward.

Men laughed.

I also chuckled when Tuck quickly snatched a wrench to protect himself.

Red lips pursed. Vixen eyed the weapon. “Think that’s going to save you, Prospect?”

Men laughed.

Damnit.

As if this wasn’t humiliating enough, she tapped her purse, which we knew was carrying a piece. One the girl could handle better than most ordinary men, thanks to her brother, who wasn’t present due to Viola’s menstrual cycle—or as he called it, ‘Bloody Mary Days’.

Tucker side-stepped and used me as cover. “Love you, babe.” He spoke over my shoulder. “He’s about to have a baby. Don’t shoot.”

Blue eyes glared… “Mavy-Wavy, are you getting her the gift, or am I beating your ass?”

I whined, “Can’t you just order whatever it is I need?”

“That’s it.” Done with me, she started reaching into her purse.

Tucker-the-Fucker ducked behind me completely and whimpered.

“V!” I held up my hands. “Damn! I’ll go buy something!”

Pleased, she closed her purse and dipped her chin. “Now, for some instructions. This gift must be magical. There’s an art show happening by the river. You better find something that makes her cry tears of joy, or your balls are mine to put in a jar titled V’s Torture Toys.”

I winced. Fuck!

“No pressure,” mumbled the coward behind me.

High heels—having not one issue walking on gravel—strutted away, fantastic ass swaying like a hypnotic—

She spun around.

All eyes lifted.

She glared at me. “And take Artist.”

I pouted. “Why?”

I think he and I were too much alike. We kept locking up like hungry Pitbulls, both trying to decide who was the leader of the pack. Poor Tuck was always stuck in the middle and punished with us. Good news? The three of us could now wash ten bikes in record time.

Strut, Strut. And here she came back to us.