Page 144 of Wife Number One

I shoved to my feet. “I can’t fucking stand here watching Riot mentally undress her. I’m going to pull my gun and shoot the prick if I have to look at it any longer.”

“Don’t do that,” Fang warned quietly. “There’s a lot more of them than there are of us. I know it’s killing you, but just play nice.”

Riot reached out and ran his fingers up Kara’s leg, and a red haze dropped down over my eyes. I reached for my gun.

“Jesus fuck,” War muttered. “Bliss is having a baby any damn day now, and I do not have the time or patience for this bullshit. Riot!”

The Louisiana prez lifted his head.

War jerked a thumb toward the small conference room off to the side. “Church. Now. Bring your VP and one other member. Everyone else waits out here.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a direct order.

Riot might have had superiority over me, his rank of prez making his status higher than mine. But War was the prez of the original Slayers’ club. So even amongst presidents, he was top dog, and the entire room knew it.

They didn’t like it.

But they knew it.

Riot stood and said something to Kara that produced a pink blush on her cheeks.

I wanted to fucking scream.

At least in church, Riot couldn’t gawk at her. Pervy old prick. He was twice her age. He probably had kids older than her.

My fingers twitched over my gun again, desperate to use it.

Fang clamped a heavy hand down on my shoulder. “You have any idea how much trouble you’d cause War by doing whatever it is you’re thinking of doing? He can’t be here dealing with this shit when his woman is about to have a baby. You’re VP. Not a pussy-whipped prospect. Get your shit together.”

I glared at him. “Like you can talk. Rebel has you wrapped around her little finger. Always has.”

His eyes darkened. “Just the way I like it. But I’m not the goddamn VP. And Kara has made it pretty clear she’s not your woman, even if you want her to be. So do your job, walk your ass into church, and leave that girl alone. She ain’t yours.”

He was right. If I’d had any chance of calling her mine, I’d killed it dead when I’d lied to her.

It didn’t mean I could just turn off everything I felt though. I couldn’t just walk away. I glanced over at Ratchet and Aloha. “Watch her,” I demanded, pointing at Kara.

They both nodded.

“Breathe,” Fang said quietly in my ear as he marched me into church. “You’ve got a job to do in here, and it ain’t to shoot fucking Riot in the head. Kara’s having a good time with Amber and Kiki. Aloha is watching her. Your only job right now is to put your personal shit aside and have War’s back. You owe him that much.”

He was right. I’d barely been around lately. I’d been missing phone calls. I still hadn’t done anything about meeting with the new police chief. I was just letting all of that fall on War whose head was miles away, at his home where his family awaited their newest arrival.

Fang was right.

It pissed me off because the man never made a comment unless it was to hit so close to home it scarred.

I stopped dragging my feet and pulled my shit together, standing up tall and shaking Fang off before we walked through the doorway. Fang kicked it closed behind him.

War sat at the head of the table, leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. I took the seat to his right, Fang sitting on my other side. Riot sat opposite me, smirking, while his VP, Torque, and his sergeant-at-arms, Acid, sat to his left.

We’d all met before. Many a time. There was no need for introductions.

Just explanations.

War cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow in Riot’s direction. “How you been, brother?”

“Same old shit, different day.” Riot grinned and rocked on the back two legs of his chair. “Riding. Working. Partying. Fucking.”

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