Page 16 of Guarded

Ariella

Do you think this is a rash or some kind of mutating disease?

Ay güey.

I light up a cigarette. Giving Ariella my number was a huge mistake. Emergencies to her ranged from helping her hang up shelves in her office to confirming her Google search symptoms.

The woman had a gold medal in the Hypochondriac Olympics. Attached to the message is a picture of a red blotch on her thigh. I let out a sigh before I text her back.

Nero

Is this an emergency?

Ariella

It is if I’m dying.

Nero

It’s not. Don’t message me unless it’s an emergency.

The fucking vitamins she had been forcing me to take every morning were helping to give me more energy throughout the day, but they also made me hornier than usual.

Or maybe that had more to do with her walking around half-naked. Even now, staring down at the small glimpse of her skin makes my dick harden in my pants.

Whatever organic shit was in the green juice was helping too. Even if I only drank a little bit before she left the kitchen.

Just in the last week, my head felt clearer. I was less likely to impulsively stab someone. Like the green-eyed bastard with a smug smile aimed at me riding onto the compound.

Leatherface called for a meeting this morning, and as usual, he was the last to arrive. He rides up next to me before stopping the engine. When he walks past me, I follow him into the clubhouse, where Jasper and the other men are waiting at the round table in the back room.

Like the arrogant dick he is, Leatherface winks at me before taking his place at the front of the table. Jasper sits to his left, and I take the seat to his right. The seat that had been reserved for Ghost. The seat I was hoping to take permanently in the future.

“We’re going to be doubling our workload next month,” Leatherface announces.

He goes over the new operations we will be taking on. We had already been running guns for the Russians and the Houston Cartel Connect. I listen closely as he breaks down his new plan to add us to the government payroll. I’m on boarduntil I’m not.

Theuntil I’m notpart happens when Leatherface’s plan involves Ariella. He had forged an alliance with Congressman Preston Cuevas. The corrupt politician wanted two things: a hit on the current mayor and Ariella Reyes to be his wife.

“What?” I say through gritted teeth.

“Axel has already approved the marriage.” He says, looking straight at me. I’m not sure why it bothers me, but it fucking does.

“Since when did we get fucked up in politics?” Hueso asks.

Hueso was aveterano,a founding member of Los Peregrinos del Infierno. He was also married to Ofelia, our bar manager. The two had made the move from Arizona to Houston so they could be closer to their grandchildren.

Hueso didn’t involve himself in much of the violence anymore, but he was a necessity for us to build a chapter in Houston. Like Ghost, he didn’t trust Leatherface to do anything that wasn’t led by his selfish desires.

“We’ll vote on it,” Jasper says, interrupting the stare-down between Leatherface and Hueso.

“All in favor of collecting a body for Preston Cuevas in exchange for political gain in Houston, say Aye,” Leatherface says.

Jasper, Hueso, and I vote against the plan. We were all club members long enough to know politicians were messier than gangsters. The three nomads we took in, Chunks, Salvi, Larry vote in favor of it.

“Get ready for the hit, boys,” Leatherface says before hitting the gavel down.

An unsettling feeling builds at the thought of using Ari for leverage. For the fucking life of me, I can’t picture Ari with some corrupt fucking politician, but then again, can I picture her with anyone?

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