Page 36 of Dragon Strife
“Hold on,” Malik says into my ear. “They could be here to escape your brother’s club. That one has a black eye and bruises around her throat.”
“That’s Angel,” I confirm. “She is my brother’s pet on occasion.” I can’t deny how similar those bruises look to the ones I sported not too long ago. “We need to speak to them. The way both Carrie and Angel are scanning the room tells me they're here to find someone.”
“I’ll go get them and bring them into Hell.” Malik quickly strides into the room, past the brothers’ cheers for his appearance, and straight to the two strippers. I want to rearrange their faces so fucking badly.
He speaks to Carrie and then wraps his thick, long arms around their shoulders, guiding them back toward me. I quickly turn and jog back to the room we exited as my stomach coils with nerves. The last time I saw Carrie, Malik had me spread out inside Glitz and made a meal out of me for anyone to see. It was also the last time I saw Quinton. I know he betrayed me in the worst way possible, but my heart sometimes forgets that we’re supposed to hate him.
I take my seat at the head of the table and about a minute later, the three of them are strolling in. Carrie is the first to notice me and she pauses as her eyes rove over my face and cut. Does she see the President’s badge?
“Hello, girls,” I coo as Angel gasps. “Welcome to Hell’s March. Is there something we can help you with?”
“We’re just here to party,” Angel whispers a well-rehearsed line.
“You made a wrong turn because this isn’t Glitz nor is it the Dragon’s compound. Take a seat.” I point to the two chairs in front of them.
“We’ll just leave,” Carrie says as she turns, only to smack off Malik’s hard chest.
“No,” I ground out. “You will sit and then you’re going to tell me exactly why you’re here.”
They ease into the chairs Malik pulls out for them and smooths down both of their hairs as if he were calming anxious kittens. Then he stands at the door, waiting for me to begin. I don’t have much to say and if they don’t start talking, I’ll enjoy making their lives difficult.
“Why are you here, Carrie?” I get straight to the point. “Did Quinton send you? I bet he’s still calling out to me in his sleep, huh?” I watch as her mask of indifference quickly morphs into rage.
“Are you crazy? Quinton fucking hates you.” Her cheeks turn red with anger as her eyes blaze with intensity. She’s sitting ramrod straight in the chair, her knee bouncing. “I’m in his bed every night.” Angel bites into her cheek as Carrie spews her lies.
“What about you, Angel?” I point to the bruising on her neck. “Those look like Jaeger’s usual branding.” Malik snarls from his place at the door, making both girls turn to look at him. I pity Jaeger for the day he comes face-to-face with my man.
“I was told to come here and check things out,” she admits, then winces when Carrie kicks her under the table.
“By Jaeger?” I ask as I lean forward.
“Is that blood on your face?” Carrie asks as I reach up to touch my cheek.
“You betcha.” I nod. “Want to add to it?” I widen my eyes and give her a toothy grin.
She swallows and then looks at Angel, her eyes wide. “Jaeger sent us, not Quinton. He wanted to see if you were still alive because he plans on coming here to kill you himself.”
Lies.
I can hear the shake in her words as she scrambles to build the lie she’s basing on truth. I know I won’t get her to completely turn on the club she’s loyal to and that’s okay, I got enough. “Malik, why don’t we put them in our nicest suite here at the club? Make sure someone stays outside the door, in case they need anything.”
“You got it, Prez,” he rasps, the sound warming the space between my thighs. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He guides them up out of their seats when Carrie turns to cast me another look.
“Are you seriously the President of Hell’s March?” she asks, her voice filled with doubt as her eyes fall to the badge again.
“Sure is,” Malik answers for me. “She shot the old one in the head.”
They leave, but I don’t miss the fear in Carrie’s eyes as she looks back at me. I don’t hold back the grin, hoping she sees just how crazy I can be if I’m crossed.
The door closes and I fall back into my seat. Worry surges through me as I think of Delia in the hands of Jaeger. Would Laith really hand her over to him? The answer is simple, I don’t fucking know. I can say with all confidence that I didn’t know any of them as well as I thought.
Malik pokes his head back in and gives me a small smile. “Davis has taken on the task of watching two strippers. I need to go check that car out. Are you good here?” His voice is a bit different, like he’s trying to sound happier than what he actually is. It sends a warning through me.
“Okay.” I tip my head as he closes the door, then count to thirty as I remove my cut and fold it on the table before getting out of my seat.
I hate that I’m doing this and it’s making me feel like a jealous female, but Malik just lied to me. He taught me how to detect it, to listen to a tone and memorize it at its most basic level. His was infused with deception. I leave the room and find Davis just down the corridor, his face looking smug as he sits in a chair across from the room the girls are in.
“Malik forgot his cell.” I hold mine up in the air. “Did you see where he went?”
