Page 354 of The Tempted

“Don’t think about it,” I warned.

“Fair game, brother,” he reminded me.

“You want my leftovers?” I asked angrily.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Never bothered you before,” he said nonchalantly, passing me the joint. “How was she anyway? She worth the ride?”

“Fuck off,” I ground out, taking the joint from him. “She’s off the table.”

He shook his head.

“Don’t work like that, Riggs, and you know it,” he stated, kicking off the wall he was leaning against. “She’s not your property, anyone can give her a go,” he added.

“She’s not club pussy,” I seethed.

“Pussy is pussy, and if you’re done tapping that, there are plenty of men lining up for it,” he sneered.

“What’re you doing?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. “You trying to fuck with me?”

“How many bitches have you fucked since your patch party?”

“You keeping tabs on my dick, Bones?”

“Just pointing out what you’re too stupid to see,” he countered. “If Lauren lived closer, you’d be all over that shit,” he suggested.

“No I wouldn’t,” I argued. “I got what I wanted from her.”

“Then you shouldn’t mind if someone else, namely me, takes what I want from her,” he continued.

I bit the inside of my cheek, my hands balling into fists at my side as I clenched my jaw.

“I don’t give a fuck,” I growled. “Are we going to talk about swapping pussy all day or are we going to get these fucking crates done?”

Lucky for me, Lauren lived two hours away. Two hours away from me and my dickhead brother who was itching for a taste of what was mine.

Mine?

Jesus.

After we were finished with the crates we rode back to the compound and met with Jack and Blackie. We were waiting on a call from Pops, to let us know when the guns would be ready to be packed up so we could make the delivery to the Red Dragons. There was tension between the president and vice-president and I surmised it was the stress of the deal—there was a lot riding on this. Wu was paying the Knights seven hundred thousand for this shipment and forking over another two for the next one. However, if any of us were caught by the cops with these weapons we were looking at life in prison.

Life.

That was no fucking joke.

The following day, Jack ordered me to resume my babysitting gig until the call came through from Pops, then all hands were on deck and the Knights had to roll. But for now, I’d watch Anthony teach a bunch of kids how to throw a punch.

I couldn’t figure this guy out. The tri-state area feared this bastard for his reputation as Victor’s enforcer, yet parents willingly signed their children up to learn from him. Who would’ve thought an ex-gangbanger would open up his own version of The Boys & Girls Club of America. The world was fucked—in a good way. It was pretty awesome of him to turn his life around and take the initiative to get neighborhood kids off the streets. And it was even more awesome that the people who once feared him, gave “Michael Corleone” a chance to do the right thing.

Only in New York.

Bianci was going off on the bag, doing what he did best, showing these kids there was an alternative to their anger and aggression. Watching him hit the heavy bag put me in a trance, like it did every time, and I didn’t hear the bell sound as the door opened.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned to meet Anthony’s wife’s smiling face. On top of being the neighborhood hero, Bianci scored the hottest wife this side of the Hudson. Adrianna winked at me before turning her attention toward her husband.

“How long has been at it?” she asked, as her smile widened, watching as Anthony held the chains of the leather bag and counted the jabs the little five-year-old was taking.

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