Page 93 of Darling Psycho

“Don’t get caught.”

She pursed her lips, amused. “I never do. Ask Pretty-boy who changed his Wi-Fi password for a week. He still doesn’t know it was me.”

Without being asked, Angela poured him a short tumbler of whiskey; her fingers lingered along the back of his hand when she slid it across the bar.

“What did Pretty do to deserve such a punishment?”

The smile lit up her face, making her softer. “It was last summer, and he thought it was hilarious making fun of my sore throat voice.”

Hm. Maybe he’d have to put a punishment on Pretty-boy, too. “What did you sound like?”

Angela pulled a face, “like a frog had deep throated a tuba.”

A smile twitched Lawless’ mouth.

“I told him to knock it off, I gave him a chance, and he didn’t take it, so I had to teach him a lesson.”

Look at her being a vengeful little badass, even if it was a harmless prank. She had so much bite in her. His blood hummed.

He might have acted on it, made her give him her mouth right there in front of everyone if she didn’t skitter off down the other end to serve needy maggots. Lawless sat there a minute more, sipping on the whiskey, when he felt a presence at his side.

“The hell? You got a drink for yourself and not ours? Selfish fucker,” Snake complained.

“I’m special, and you’re not, buttercup. Suck it up.”

He sat with the boys for a while, making no bones about watching her working. Her greedy eyes snatched glances every few minutes.

Lawless put out feelers to a few contacts, texted a few more. It wasn’t only Ruiz’s trafficking that was now on theSoulsradar, but his entire business operation. Rider got word from other chapters that Ruiz was trying to establish a base around the States. Already, Miami had shut down an attempt at opening a brothel. Lawless wasn’t against sex workers. They could fuck who they wanted to for a hundred bucks. But Ruiz wasn’t trying to open any run-of-the-mill brothel; it was for the perverts who got off on underage cargo and the unwilling.

What had started as Lawless’ solo project was now club-focused.

In the next hour, old ladies arrived. Winter greeted him with a warm smile while she cuddled up to Snake. Grinder prowled in, holding his son, followed by Luxe. They all sat around two tables like a demented, loud family.

The noise was too much for Lawless, and he stalked over to the bar.

Right as another man came through the double doors and Lawless watched Angela’s face spread with a grin, waving the guy over.

Of course, that boyish face was remembered.

Lawless had it memorized, down to the last pimple.

A few years older now, sure.

But he’d fantasized about cutting the skin off his bones and making a new pair of slippers, oh, about a hundred times, give or take.

Watching through bored eyes as the blond man bound up to the bar three seats away, all squeaky clean smiles to greet Angela. “Look at you serving drinks. You’re like Cinderella.” He joked.

Even as she laughed, her eyes sought Lawless. Good girl. And boy wonder noticed her gaze and turned a milky white, seeing Lawless. Since Lawless last saw him, the boy had grown, even put a few pounds of muscle on his pigeon chest.

Angela scooted off when someone whistled for service.

And the boy, not a boy anymore, inched down into a seat.

“You’re—you’re Angela’s...”

Angela’s protector, guard dog, any-fucking-thing she wants. Yeah, I’m Angela’s.

“Lawless.” he supplied.

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