Page 56 of Pink Poison

“If it’s about Stevie, you can kiss my peachy, white ass, you piece of sh—”

I hold my hand up, stopping little red before she can finish her sentence. Her nose scrunches, showing me every ounce of her disdain as she flips me off.

“It’s not about Stevie. It’s business.” I sigh.

“Shawn,” Mama Mo croaks from behind me. “It’s been too long, boy.”

I look over my shoulder, hawk-eying the aging woman as she shuffles from the locker room. “I was just here the other day.”

Her gravelly laugh fills the empty bar before a coughing fit takes over.Jesus.This woman needs to lay off the coffin nails before she loses whatever lung capacity she has left. “You boysusedto be here every night before thatotherclub cropped up.”

“Memento,” I supply, biting back a laugh. I swear, this woman gets feistier with age. “And it's for the best, ya old bat. The people we handle business with aren’t like us—gotta wine and dine ‘em.”

Stevie’s friend lets out an irritated cough, dragging my attention back to her. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kick your ass out of here after your lastvisit.”

A lump forms in the back of my throat as I remember my less-than-ideal reaction. I have never raised my hand at a woman.Never.That is not the kind of man I will ever be, but I crossed a line when she punched me. My reaction was too close to an unforgivable violence, and I regretted it the moment I realized how badly I fucked up.

“There isn't a good reason,” I admit. And it's true. There isn't, and there never will be. “But, if you’re willing to hear me out, I’d like to explainwhyI reacted that way.”

Her stare narrows and I prepare for her to tell me to fuck off. Instead, she surprises me by clicking her tongue with a nod. “Make it count,dickhead.”

My fingers gravitate to the shaved side of my head. “Was that supposed to be a bald joke?” She lifts her brows while rolling her eyes, refusing to confirm or deny my question. Blowing out a slow breath, I start, “‘Bout five or so years ago, the club was hit, as the whole city knows. But, only few know thatIwas in there—hanging on by a damn prayer.”

“I heard about the attack, but I thought that was before you patched,” she says.

I shake my head. “I was only patched for a handful of months when it happened.” Waving my hand, I brush that information away as irrelevant. “Anyway, the crew got wind of a high-stakes match and popped my name on the list. It was a damn good fight, I went six and oh undefeated before the final round. The next thing I knew, I was getting my shit rocked left and right while the crew was being taken out one by one. Before I went down cold, someone took a knife to my back—the same spot that you punched. The nerves there are tender— doctors say it’s phantom pain or something. Whatever it is, it fucks with me every day, some days worse than others.”

A warm hand gently wraps around my bicep, startling me from the memories of that night. Mama Mo stands in my peripheral, wearing a kind smile and watery eyes. “I’ll never forget gettin’ that call. I prayed for you boys—asked the big man to keep ya safe.”

“I-I didn’t know,” little red whispers.

“You caught me good, that's for sure.” I smirk. “There was no way you could have known. It wasmyresponsibility to control my reaction, and I chose poorly. That's on me.”

“Dammit,” she snarks, lacking the heat she had minutes ago. “Now I just look like a bitch.”

I wave her off. “Nah. No harm, no foul.”

“Lemme at least fix you a drink.” She reaches underneath the bar where the beer cooler sits. “On the house, obviously.”

“I’ll take ya up on that.” I rap my knuckles over the bar top. “Knowing your name might be nice, too.”

Her green eyes flash with mischief, turning the energy around us into something better suited for what I originally came here for. “You mean to tell me that Stevie didn’t share my name when y’all were gettin’ down and dirty?”

“Nop-e,” I pop. “The only name I wanna hear from her is mine when we’re together.”

“Good man.” She laughs. “Teegan Lorraine, but you can call me Tee. Everyone else does.”

She slides a bottle of beer over the counter for me. I take a complimentary swig of the bitter liquid before returning it to the counter. “I’ve been calling you little red in my head, I think it’ll stick. Maybe. I’ll have to run it by Kash, he’s the name guru or something.”

“Now that you two have made right with each other,” Mama Mo rasps. “What did you need to talk to me about? Folks will start comin’ in for business soon—can’t have them pokin’ their noses.”

Teegan gives us both a nod before excusing herself. I wait until I hear the front door close before turning my attention back to the graying woman next to me. “I need to know if you have any information on some new associates.”

“I might.” She hacks a damn lung. “Gimme their names.”

“Atticus Lennon and Creed Hill,” I say quietly.

A moment of silence stretches before Mo eases herself onto the stool beside me. A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, twisting everything inme until bile creeps up my throat as I wait for her answer. Something tells me that Mo knows more than we anticipated, and we aren’t going to like the answers she has.

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