Page 3 of Desert Loyalties
I tense, just a little. He notices.
“You’ve been... off,” he says. “Brothers are walkin’ on eggshells around you. Even Brick gave you wide berth last week, and that man’s too stupid to be afraid of anything.”
I grunt. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. And I’m tired of the tiptoeing. What’s wrong, Mandrake? Talk to me. No patches in here. Just you and me.”
I stare at the wall behind him for a beat too long. Then I sigh, deep and tired.
“I’m just sick of the same old shit.”
Ranger doesn’t blink. Doesn’t nod. He just waits. Like he knows that’s only the surface, and he’s damn sure gonna dig deeper.
Then he says it. “This got anything to do with that blonde bartender out there?”
My back straightens. Spine locked.
“What about Skye?” I ask, voice low, teeth behind the words. Not a question anymore, but a warning.
Ranger lifts an eyebrow, and now he knows.
“Thought so,” he says, sitting back. “You might want to figure that out, Vice. Before someone else does.”
And just like that, the ground shifts. “Nobody touches her,” I say, voice sharp, flat as a blade.
Ranger leans back; arms folded across his chest. Calm as ever, like he’s not poking at a hornet’s nest.
“She’s not claimed,” he says, and it’s not an accusation just fact. “And you and I both know the only reason none of the brothers go near her is 'cause you put Lark on blocks for a straight week after he hooked up with her when she first got here.”
I don't answer.
“You rotated him on double shifts atBlockstill he couldn’t stand without wincing,” he adds, voice low, like he's daring me to deny it.
Blocks. Our strip club on the Vegas strip. Male dancers mostly, but we run all kinds of business through there. Lark worked the doors. Ran errands. Scrubbed toilets when I told him to. Still walked funny after day four.
I grit my teeth. “That was because Lark is a disrespectful little shit who doesn’t know when to shut his mouth.”
Ranger raises a brow. “You sure? 'Cause from where I was sitting, it looked an awful lot like jealousy.”
I don’t flinch, but something in my jaw tightens.
He leans forward, elbows on the desk, eyes locked with mine.
“You keep telling yourself she’s just the bartender. Just another hangaround. But sooner or later, she’s gonna get tired of waiting.”
I don’t have a response. Not a real one. Because I’ve been living in that space between wanting her and staying away so long, I forgot where the line even is.
“She’s not claimed,” he repeats. “And you know the rules.”
“She’s mine,” I growl before I even think about it. Low. Possessive. Real.
Ranger nods like he’s been waiting for me to say it. “Then you better act like it. Before someone else does.”
Chapter 2
SKYE
The stars are so pretty.
