Page 46 of Pink Poison

"I'mbeing a punk ass bitch?" I laugh. "How about you nut the fuck up and admit that you're pissed."

He stares at me like I've lost my goddamn mind.Shit, maybe I have."Is that what it'll take to get you off my dick, to hear that I'm pissed off?" His knuckles pop as he flexes his hands into fists, fists that I hold no doubt he wants to swing on me. "Yeah, Shawn. I'm fucking pissed. Happy?"

Not even a little bit. Now that my pain is ebbing all I feel isshitty.Shittythat I stuck my tongue and dick where it didn’t belong.Shittythat I was an asshole about it to Mack last night, then went and lied to his fucking face when I said thatshewon't be a problem. More than that, I feel shittier for being a colossal dickhead to Graves. I guess it's true what they say: misery loves company, and I'm fucking miserable.

With a groan, I scrub my palms over my face while I gather a semblance of my shit together. "Sorry, man. I'm not thinking straight today."

"No shit," he deadpans. "Now, am I gonna have to beat your ass for you to tell me what's going on, or are you gonnanut the fuck upand do it yourself?"

I deserved that, having my words thrown back at me.

“Mack asked if I was going to stay away from Stevie last night.” I sigh. "I told him I would if it was an order. Then, like the walking dildo he is, he said,"And if it's not?"

His brows raise in question. “And? What did you say?”

“I told him she wouldn't be a problem.” My jaw clenches with the lie on my tongue, tasting more bitter the second time around. "I lied. She is a problem. She's under my fucking skin, and it's driving me insane."

He barks a humorless laugh. “She has that effect on people. I'm pretty sure she could convince a saint to become a sinner.”

"I don't plan on staying away from her, Graves," I admit.

"That's good, because I need someone to babysit her pretty little ass." I frown, confused as hell. With a nod, he continues, "Stevie Waters did not come back after five years of excommunication and isolation to make friends and wet dick. That woman is scorned, and hell hath no fury. She is doingexactlywhat she set out to do."

"You want me to find out what she's up to," I muse.

He nods again. "That, and look out for her.Discreetly.Kash was right, she needs protection, especially while in Lennon and Hill's sights. He just went about it in a way that makes me want to break his nose again."

I snort. “You're an asshole, man.”

"Never said I wasn't." He cracks a smile, bleeding the tension from his frame. "So, are you in?"

Smirking, I shuffle close enough to clap my hand over his shoulder. “Yeah, IsupposeI can manage that.”

"Dickhead." Standing from my bed, he laughs. "Come on. I have a day full of waiting to hear back from my contact before we make any more moves on the board.”

“Huh,” I muse. “Maybe add working shit out with Kash, too.”

His mouth quirks, our tension long forgotten. “Yeah, I overreacted last night, didn’t I?”

A raspy vibration builds in my chest at his words.Overreactionis an understatement. Kash may have jumped the gun last night, but he took hits that he never should have had to take. Not when, at the root of it, he had good intentions. Better than any of us, anyways.I suppose the saying is true: the path to hell is paved with them.

“You think?” I eye him like it's fucking obvious, because itis.“Go patch things up with him. You know he’s going to be a sour ass until youdo.”

He walks to my door with a groan. “He’s worse than Mack when he gets like that.”

I laugh, trailing behind him. “Good luck with that, Prez.”

“You’re an asshole,” he snarks.

“You love me.”

Chapter sixteen

Graves

A sense of relief washes over me as Stone and I walk out of his room. I don’t like the distance that's been between us, the distance I created. Last night broke something in me, part of the lock that keeps all of my shit from overflowing. I can't afford to slip again, not like that. And certainly not because ofher.My focus needs to remain on the club, and solely on it. We are the closest we have ever been to getting the answers we need. One step closer to getting justice for the ones we've lost. I owe my brothers that and so much more.

Stone’s footsteps sound from behind me as we make our way into the bar, just in time for a scoff of irritation to scrape at my throat. Mack sits at the bar, damn near drowning himself with a bottle of Jack. “It’s a little early to be drinking, isn’t it?”

---