Chapter 2Diablo
“Just how much tinseland shiny shit do we need to put up?” I asked, taking a long drag from my cigarette and watching the prospects as they hung up garland around the perimeter of the common room. “The Crossroads is gonna look like some shmuck puked up fucking Christmas cheer all over the place.”
“Next thing you know, we’re gonna have that damn smiling Elf everywhere too.”
Sending a smirk in Bodie’s direction, I had no idea what he was talking about. “Thefuck?”
“That little red elf that people set up around the house during the holidays. He supposed to watch over the kids, and they know he’s keepin’ tabs on shit for Santa,” he explained.
“That’s fuckin’ genius,” Rael blurted. “I need one for Nylah. I want to catch her in the act, so when’s she naughty, I can punish her in bed.” A shiver ran through his body, and he adjusted his dick. The wickedest grin stretched across his mouth, and I could see the wheels turning in his head.
“Cut that shit out,” I ordered, wishing Bodie hadn’t brought it up. “Can’t fucking deal with your crazy. All this Christmas shit makes my Reaper edgy.”
Rael chortled like what I said was the funniest damn thing in the world. “You’re so cute when you’re riled up.”
Bodie and I both groaned.
Rael squared his shoulders back and ticked his head, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. “You need laid, Diablo. Want me to find you some pity pussy?”
“Thefuck?” Bodie blurted, a loud ass guffaw filling the room as he tilted his head back and roared with laughter.
“I don’t need pity pussy,Rael. Fuck off.”
“Seriously, when’s the last time you got laid? There’re plenty of club girls that can take the edge off. I heard the standards are pretty low—”
That was as far as he got before my fist connected with his jaw. Rael didn’t move as I watched his Reaper rise to the surface, and that familiar, challenging look entered his eyes. Fucker loved to taunt his brothers and got off on being confrontational. It was his forte. Not that Rael was an asshole—okay, hewas—but he loved causing a ruckus, and maybe the enforcer in him couldn’t resist. He was our SAA now and had been for years, but his first love was protecting the club and enforcing the rules. He wasn’t happy unless he could get dirty, use his fists, or torture some unlucky son of a bitch for crossing the club.
Point was I knew better. He loved to taunt.
I just wasn’t in the mood to fucking deal with it today.
Rael swung next, and I ducked, barely dodging the blow. He snickered as I landed a hit in his gut, and then a loud whistle pierced the air. The sudden shrill sound made me wince as my gaze shot straight to Grim. His arms folded across his chest as he scowled at both of us.
“Rael, find something else to do to occupy your time, or you can help the prospects put up decorations for the next eight fuckin’ hours. Diablo, my office, now.”
Ignoring Rael’s chuckle, I flipped him off, following Grim down the hall and into his office. He kept the space separate from the chapel, which made sense. Club business was discussed in both places, but where all the members had a say and were required to be present during church, his private domain held a lot of secrets. It was an open door for every brother in the club. A safe space if there was such a thing for a bunch of 1%er outlaw bikers.
When the door shut behind us, my pres lit a smoke and began puffing away, gesturing for me to take a seat. Frowning, I tried not to focus on the fact that this wouldn’t be a quick conversation. He had something on his mind, and when Grim was mulling shit over, it meant trouble was coming to the club. The kind of trouble that usually ended up with dead bodies. That was what I specialized in. Well, tidying up for the club and then my other hobby—inking my fellow brothers with tattoos.
“How long you been my cleaner?” he asked, leaning against the edge of his massive desk. The dark wood gleamed in the sunshine streaming through the solitary window in the room and smelled faintly of lemon and oil.
“Nearly eighteen years, I’m guessin’,” I reminded him, sitting back against the soft leather and getting comfortable.
“Hell of a long time.”
I wasn’t sure where he was going with it. “Long enough to know I’m loyal and not nearly long enough to give it up.”