Page 40 of Desert Loyalties
She stiffens next to me when a few of the local girls approach, all fake smiles and syrupy voices.
“Aww, we’re gonna miss you, Mandrake,” one says, running a hand along my arm like she didn’t just see Skye standing right there.
“I thought we had something special,” another pouts, lips glossy and tits practically spilling out of her top.
I arch a brow. “Who the fuck are you?”
Skye’s eyes narrow, laser-focused, but she doesn’t say a word. Not yet. She doesn’t have to. The girls take the hint when I don’t let go of her, when my hand rests a little lower on her hip and I don’t even glance at them again.
They slink off, muttering under their breath, but I catch one of them whisper, “Jealous bitch.”
That’s when Skye finally speaks. “I’m sorry,” she says, voice all sweet poison, “were you invited tonight? Or did you just crawl in behind the scent of cock and desperation?”
The girl’s face goes red, but she turns and disappears fast. Smart choice.
Skye looks up at me, smirking. “I was being nice.”
I grin. “You’re perfect.”
We head toward the bar, the crowd parting just enough for us to get through. People keep congratulating us, slapping my back, trying to hug Skye but I block them.
She laughs, and then Ranger bursts out of his office, his voice booming over the music.
“Open bar! Tonight, we celebrate the claiming of Skye!”
The room erupts in noise. Bottles are popped. Music blares louder.
Skye leans into me, her lips brushing my ear. “Claiming of Skye? Like I’m property?”
I kiss the side of her head and say, “It’s claiming Mandrake too?”
Chapter 16
SKYE
Everyone’s good and drunk. Even the prospects are blitzed. The only sober ones are the officers and a handful of patched brothers, though most of the rest aren’t exactly falling-down drunk, they just keep the shots flowing and let the prospects drown.
I’m biting my rage as half-naked women climb onmybar, pouring poppers down throats and letting people do body shots off them. But that’s the point, get everyone drunk, distract the eyes, dull the minds.
That’s when the door to Ranger’s office slams open. A man storms out, Ranger and Caine hard on his heels. At first, no one notices. Then Caine shouts, “Locke! Talk to me, man!”
From the back, he doesn’t look like Locke. The party goers barely catch a glimpse of his back before he disappears out the front door. Perfect. Anyone turning to watch wouldn’t know the difference. And through the heavy bass, we all hear a bike roar to life outside.
Caine and Ranger reappear a minute later. Drake moves to them, low and tight, “What’s going on?”
Ranger shrugs, playing it cool. “Locke said he’s going nomad for a while.”
Drake arches a brow. “What the fuck happened?”
Ranger brushes it off. “We’ll deal with it tomorrow. Tonight’s your party. Enjoy it.”
Then he raises his voice. Someone kills the music.
“Tonight,” Ranger announces, loud and clear, “our brother Mandrake is taking the big step, claiming Skye as his old lady.”
The room erupts with whistles and whoops. I feel the heat of everyone’s eyes.
Ranger grins. “I personally think the fucker couldn’t have made a better choice.” Mickey steps up and hands him something.
