Page 4 of Deranged (American Street Kings 3)

She held out her hand over the table. “Wraith.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Wraith.”

I cocked a brow, hesitant but intrigued, and shook her hand lightly. “Onyx.”

“Is that your real name, Onyx?”

“Is Wraith your real name?”

Her lips curved at the edges. “I don’t usually disclose such personal information on a first date.”

I let out a mild laugh, amused as fuck. “I don’t remember asking you out on a date.”

“You don’t?” She feigned a look of hurt, placing her palm on her chest. “It’s bad manners to hurt a girl’s feelings on the first date.”

My gaze dropped to her hand, her pinky and thumb touching the swell of her perfectly palm-sized tits. Her arm was covered in ink, a sleeve tattoo of different shapes and images stretching all the way from her wrist to her shoulder.

“So, why, exactly, are you sitting here with me?”

“I just told the trampy waitress you’re already taken.” She shrugged. “It would look odd if I didn’t sit with you.” She flipped a few strands of ink-black hair out of her face, the rest tied in a high ponytail, with a white bandana wrapped around her head.

“Ah. Right.” I nodded, my mouth still pulled up in an amused grin, her eyes fixed on mine. “I guess I need to buy you a drink as well, you know…to make it seem legit and all.”

“Hold on, cowboy. All I did was save you from that walking STD over there. This ain’t a date.”

“But you just said—”

“Look at that,” she glanced at her wrist with no watch, “three minutes have gone by. I bet that’s enough to make our trampy friend believe my little lie.”

“Wait, wh—”

“See ya, Onyx.” She slid out of the seat and strolled off, leaving me with nothing but the perfect view of her curvy, firm ass.

The door chimed when she walked out, and for a second I thought about going after her. God knew it had been a long time since a woman only needed three minutes to amuse me in the way she just did. But something told me she wasn’t the type of woman who would appreciate being chased after.

I finished my burger and beer in peace, my thoughts swirling back and forth from Granite wanting me to take his place, to Ink, who was on the verge of declaring World War Three on the Pythons.

How did things get so fucked up so fucking fast? This was not how shit was supposed to go down. We were supposed to avenge our dad’s death, make the Pythons pay for what they did. Instead, Neon got hurt, and Alyx got kidnapped. Now our entire fucking club seemed to hang by a goddamn thread.

The feeling of amusement I had a second ago vanished, and I shoved the napkin to the side, dropped a twenty, and walked out. This place was getting too crowded, anyway.

As I stepped outside, the warm summer breeze wafting against my cheeks, I immediately glance over to my V Rod. Two men were standing next to it, laughing while trying to keep their drunken asses standing up straight.

“Yo, step away from the wheels,” I yelled as I walked over. They turned around and faced me, eyes red, foreheads sweaty and creased.

“This yours?” One with a scar above his lip glared my way.

“Yeah, so back the fuck up.”

“Oooh,” he mocked. “A bit overprotective, there, wouldn’t you say?”

I glowered at them and grabbed my lid. “Just move along.”

“Or what?”

Jesus Christ. This was not the kind of shit I was in the mood for right now. “Listen, walk away, man.”

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