Page 7 of Room One Hundred and Four: Shock and Awe

Don’t get me wrong, I love the old ladies my brothers have found like they’re my sisters. I am more than willing to spill blood for them and protect them with my life, the same way I’m willing to do so for my brothers. That doesn’t mean I thought I’d commit to one woman.

Then again, thinking about some of my brothers, like Monk who changed so drastically after his sister was abducted by traffickers and then her subsequent death, he never thought he’d have an old lady. Watching him open up to Rebel has been a revelation, one I’ve been glad to see. She’s good for him and shines light on areas of his heart and soul that we could have never touched.

“What the fuck, Spark?” Tiff’s screeching voice has me wincing as my ears ring slightly.

When I look up and meet Spark’s eyes, they’re wide and wild. I’m hot on his heels when he stomps down away from the angel still on the floor. We’re not alone either, Crucify is right behind me.

The door to the supply room is open and it only takes a glance to see that it’s empty. Fuck. She’s gone. I know it without having to call up Prospect on the gate to confirm.

Why does that make an ache start to throb in the center of my chest?

Spark doesn’t stop until he’s in his office, his booted feet stomping back and forth in front of his desk until he rounds it, grabbing some glasses and a bottle of Hammond Whiskey from a drawer which he slams down on top with a little too much force.

He starts to pour whiskey into the three glasses he’s pulled out and, for the first time in my life, even after all we’ve seen, I watch as my Prez’s hands shake. It’s unsettling, but not all that surprising. I feel like I’ve been knocked off kilter and one look at Crucify’s expression tells me that he’s right there with me.

Something inside of me clicks and I do what I’ve been doing for years now—start to think of all the ways to solve the problem. For my Prez. For my brother.

For me?

I’m not sure if I can accept that. Not yet anyway, but for them it doesn’t really matter.

“What the fuck was that?” Spark snarls the question after downing his drink in one shot. “Who the fuck was that?”

I clear my throat, my eyes studying my Prez and the way he looks like a snake coiled and about to strike. “I hired her. I thought it would be a nice way to change things up. Burlesque is all about the tease,” I tease, trying to see if I can lighten the mood.

Spark’s crystal blue eyes glint with warning and I’m reminded why he got his road name. It only takes one spark to set him off. It’s the way he’s always been. And I never want to do anything to find myself on the receiving end of his fury.

I hold my hands up, my words slow and measured, “I can see she had some sort of effect on you.”

He swallows hard after he slumps down into his chair. The tension in the room seems to settle slightly and I take a seat in one of the chairs opposite him, Crucify joining me in the other one.

“You could fucking say that,” our Prez growls. He rubs a hand down his face and then shakes his head. “I don’t know what the fuck just happened.”

“You got struck,” there’s a chuckle in my voice, and Crucify groans. I look at my other best friend and smirk. “And I don’t think you were alone in that.”

Spark’s head snaps up and his eyes narrow as he looks at me and then Crucify. I can see the moment he realizes what I’m saying.

Having Navy between us would not be the first time we’ve shared a woman, but it has been a while. When we were younger it happened more often. Hell, we explored a bunch of things with a woman between us and found out some kinky shit about each other.

I don’t think we ever considered making sharing a woman a permanent arrangement.

But it’s all I can think of right now. As long as that woman’s Navy.

“I’m not fucking sharing her,” Spark grits out through his teeth, the warning in his voice clear to hear.

“She’s mine,” Crucify snarls out and I pinch the bridge of my nose.

Everything in me is screaming to throw my hat into the ring and join in on the posturing happening and the stench of testosterone quickly filling up the office. But I don’t.

Not because I don’t want her, but because someone has to be the voice of reason. Hell, someone has to find her first before this even becomes something we need to worry about.

I’ve always been the problem solver. I hope I don’t have a problem finding her.

I could always get Friar, our resident tech expert, or his woman, Robyn, to help me out. But the thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I want to find her without their help.

I need to.

When I stand, the eyes of my best friends are wary when they look at me. “Her name is Navy, by the way.” The way their faces soften tells me everything I need to know. I start to head toward the door, but throw over my shoulder, “I want her too and I have a feeling she won’t want to choose. I’ll find her. Then we’ll go from there.”

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