Page 31 of Pink Poison

“I don’t know what you’re planning with her, but I’m telling you now—if you so much as breathe wrong in her direction,” she seethes. “I. Will. Ruin. You.”

In place of themostlyfriendly bartender persona is a stone-faced soldier. There is not a shred of human emotion left in her eyes, nothing that would suggest that she even recognizes me. For some reason, Del feels Stevie is at risk near me…and I just can’t find it in me to accept that.

“If Ieverhurt her, I’ll give you the knife to gut me.”

Her eyes soften a fraction before a slight smirk tugs at the corners of her mouth. “I believe you; I’m not sure why, though.”

Shaking my head, I turn from the bar towards the exit. “You’re scary as hell when you want to be, Del.”

“You have no idea.” She laughs.

Pushing the door open, my eyes adjust to the darkness cloaking the parking lot. My heart clenches as I scour for a head of blonde hair and come up empty.Where the fuck did she go?

“Looking for me?” she shouts.

I drag my feet to her voice, nearing where I parked my bike. Slowly, my eyes catch a wisp of her brightly colored hair as she struts around my bike. “I was.” I track every part of my bike that her hands graze as if they were an extension of myself. “Are you ready to head home?”

“Who said I was going home?” She giggles in that fake as fuck tone that had Mack ready to snap someone’s neck earlier.

Scuffing my boot across the pavement, I blow out a sharp breath. “We need to get you home. It’s late.”

She pops her hip to the side and rolls her eyes. “What are you, my dad? Oh wait, I don’t have one of those.”

“Blondie.” I sigh.

Her tongue clicks against her teeth, as if she’s irritated withme. “I need to go to work. I told Atticus I’d dance tonight.”

Damnit.I pocket that information to pass to the club. Atticus Lennon just became a bigger damn problem now that Stevie is on the line. “Let’s call that cab and get you to the club.”

A sharp honk catches my attention as a yellow taxi cab pulls into the parking lot, blinding me with its obnoxiously bright headlights. Holding out my hand, I smirk. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Her hand threads through mine with ease—maybe too much.Sucking in a shallow breath, I guide her away from my bike to the cab. “Where y’all headed?” the driver asks through his window.

“Le Papillon,” I grumble. Opening the door, I pull her forward to slide in first. Mama raised a gentleman, after all. “Scoot over for me, blondie.”

She shuffles her body over cautiously, refusing to part her legs. I fall into the back seat before slamming the door closed. The cab driver grunts as he jerks the vehicle from park, parting from the lot of Memento.

The ride into the city is quiet, painfully quiet. I watch her out of the corner of my eye, hoping to catch a glimpse of her face again. Sparkling city lights come into view quickly as the driver speeds around traffic, jostling my body into Stevie’s.

“Jesus,” she huffs, “I’m gonna end up falling over and flashing y’all if he keeps this up.”

“Blondie, are you wearing anything under that dress?” I ask, fighting the urge to stare at her clenched legs.

“No-pe. Stone took a trophy—or two, technically.”

My eyebrows raise at her candidness and the fact that Stone managed to pull his head out of his ass long enough to make a real move. “Two trophies…”

“Spank bank material and my thong.” She laughs, shaking her head.

“Lucky bastard,” I mumble, turning my head to peer out of the window.

A quiet snickering erupts beside me, bringing a subtle heat to my cheeks. “Are you jealous, Kash?”

“Yep,” I admit. “It’s okay, though. I’m a patient man.”

“What the hell does that mean?” she sobers.

Turning back, I take in the fire burning in her striking, blue eyes. I watch her lips move, but sound ceases to exist as she pulls me deeper into her orbit. If infatuation is wrong, then I don’t want to be right. “I said what I said, sweetheart,” I rasp.

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