He huffed something vaguely similar to a laugh, but helped himself to one of the miniature pulled pork sliders on the table between us. The tiny burger looked beyond ridiculous in his huge ink-covered hand, and I shifted my gaze back to Lucas.
Lucas. Jesus fuck, what was I going to do about Lucas?
He was watching me again, just like he had been the whole time he'd been on stage, and this time our eyes locked for an extended moment. His hips rolled, simulating... well, shit. Like he was simulating what he wanted to be doing to me, just like he’d told me he would.
My nipples hardened against my top and my pussy throbbed as I watched him dance, picturing what it would have been like if Zed hadn't interrupted us earlier. But my daydream was broken when Zed casually stretched an arm around me, his fingers stroking down my upper arm.
I frowned, shooting him a confused look. "What the hell are you doing?"
He met my stare, giving me a half smile. "What? You had some dirt or something on your sleeve. Probably from the office wall earlier." He shot me a wink, then withdrew his arm. Slowly.
What the fuck?
17
I was too stubborn to extract myself from the awkward-as-hell situation I’d found myself in with Zed and Cass, not wanting them to think I'd run from a challenge. So instead, I polished up my big old lady-balls of steel and stuck it out.
To my surprise, I didn't hate it as much as I'd expected. Cass even spoke in full sentences—occasionally—and only looked at Zed like he hated him about half the time we sat there. But then I was pretty confident Cass didn't like anyone except my little sister, so that wasn't a shocker.
We shared information with him about the kids overdosing on dirty angel dust down in Vega's zone but kept the tattoo on Sonny-boy to ourselves. Cass might have kissed me, but it didn't mean I trusted him.
Some time later, when we'd eaten everything on the menu—Cass and Zed mostly—I brushed off my skirt and stood up.
"This was..." I trailed off before saying fun. Because I wasn't in the habit of having fun, it just sat awkwardly in my mouth. Instead I just walked away without any words at all. I wasn't one for polite goodbyes anyway, so fuck it.
I’d barely made it to the first step of the staircase when I noticed I was being followed. The stairs from the main bar up to the mezzanine were enclosed as they twisted around a corner and the lights low enough that only red LED strip lights under each step prevented people falling.
"Was there something else, Cass?" I asked, not turning to look and confirm it was in fact him. He just had a quiet presence that was unmistakable.
He grunted a sound of annoyance, then took two long strides, overtaking me on the stairs and turning to face me from a step lower.
"Actually, yeah," he told me, his eyes flashing like black diamonds in the low light, "this." His hand cupped the back of my neck, his fingers threading into my hair as he crushed his lips to mine in a kiss that made my balance falter.
He was ready to catch me, though, sweeping his other arm around my waist and spinning me against the wall. Thankfully, there was no one else on the stairs to see, but the risk was too great. The last thing I needed was rumors of favoritism sparking a gang war with Maurice or Vega.
"Cass," I breathed, pushing him away with a firm hand to his chest. "Not the time or the place."
His chest vibrated with a frustrated sound, but he took a step away nonetheless, swiping his hand over his face. "Right. My apologies, Hades."
My temper flared. "Don't fucking start with me, Cassiel."
His gaze snapped back to mine, anger flaring in those stony depths, then fading again as he gave an irritated shake of his head.
"You didn't text," he commented, his tone neutral and his face guarded.
I scowled. "Neither did you."
For a moment we just glared at one another, then a pair of women in short skirts and high heels came up the stairs, brushing past us with giggles and sly looks, breaking the moment and allowing me to look away.
With my jaw tight and my spine like steel, I started down the stairs again. I needed to get the fuck out of 7th Circle. Away from Cass. Away from Lucas. And... away from whatever the fuck had Zed acting so strange.
I could only hope he was still in the bar watching the girls on the other stage, rather than back in my office looking at security feeds.
Cass shadowed me the whole way out of the club, then across to my car in the reserved space beside my bike.
He frowned at my vehicle double-up. "Why's Fat Bob still here?" he asked.
I stifled a sigh, unlocking my Corvette and popping the door open. "Because, Cass, I was too wasted to drive it home the other night. I haven't had a chance to pick it up since, what with my gang being targeted by a ghost."
Cass knew of Chase—he'd probably even met him at some stage—but he didn't know everything that’d gone down between us in the lead-up to the Timberwolf massacre. Reapers had not been my friends back then, with the exceptions of Archer, Kody, and Steele.
But he knew enough of the Lockhart family to know why I said I was being targeted by a ghost. Dead men didn't infiltrate gangs, and they didn't plant drugs. And yet, here we were.
"I'll drive it home for you," he grunted, stepping over to my bike.
I frowned. "Hell no. Besides, I don't have the key."
He just held my gaze steady as he bent down and swiftly hot-wired my Harley Davidson Fat Bob motorcycle with nothing more than a utility knife. Bastard.
"I hate you a little bit," I admitted in a whisper, envious as all hell. Hot-wiring vehicles was a skill I'd never had the patience to learn, but it seemed so incredibly useful.
The corner of Cass's lips hiked up in a small smile at my comment, and he swung a leg over the seat. "It's not good for it to be outside in the weather, Red, you know that."
He was way too big for my bike, but somehow, he made it look effortlessly sexy as he caressed the handlebars and waited for me to get into my Corvette. I debated for a couple of moments whether to tell him to fuck off and come back for Fat Bob another day. But he already had it running, and it was bad for it to be outside in the weather. So with a small groan, I slid into my driver’s seat and pulled the door shut.
He waited while I rolled out of the parking lot first, then followed me back to my apartment building. I opened the underground parking with a clicker on my dash and descended to my parking level. I had a whole level of parking because I owned a whole floor of the building. Some of the other apartments on my floor had been incorporated into my floor space, and some were just empty. I didn't like neighbors.
Plus, I needed the parking spaces for my multiple cars. If a gang leader only had one mode of transport, were they even successful? Doubtful.
Cass rolled my Harley to a stop in the vacant space beside me, and I noted that Seph's Camaro was back. Which was a good thing, seeing as she should have been asleep hours ago.
"Thanks for dropping Bob home," I grudgingly told Cass as I climbed out of my Corvette and locked it. "You can't come upstairs, though." I arched a brow at him, implying that was what he'd been angling towards.
Despite the number of times Cass had given Seph a safe lift home or kept an eye on her while Zed and I had been away on business, he'd never been inside my apartment. It seemed a bit contradictory that I trusted him to drive with my sister on the back of his bike but not to see our personal space, but it was what it was.