I was already a forgotten thought as she rounded the back of the couch and massaged Riggs’ shoulders. My guess, by the end of the night she’ll have a dick in each hole.
“Best fucking pie ever,” Riggs said with a full mouth, shrugging the whore’s hands off of him. “You guys really went all out. I don’t remember baked goods at any other club party.”
Riggs dug his finger into the crust of the pie, pulling it back to lick the cherry filling off of the tip.
Cherry pie.
“Where did you get that?” I asked, a sickening feeling creeping into my gut as I rose to my full height and stared at the pie in his lap.
Riggs lifted his eyes to mine, licking his lips, savoring the flavor. I grabbed the pie off his lap and held it in my hands, staring at it like it was a foreign object before glancing around the clubhouse.
“Hey, wait a minute, give that back man,” Riggs exclaimed, reaching for the pie.
“Where. Did. You. Get. The. Fucking. Pie?” I asked, gritting my teeth.
“Some fucking hot blonde brought it by before she took off,” he responded, holding out his hands for the pie. “Now give it back.”
I shook my head, convinced my mind was playing tricks on me again. Reina couldn’t have really been here. I glanced back down at the pie in my hands for a moment before shoving it back to Riggs.
“Where is she now?”
“How the hell should I know?” He responded, shrugging his shoulders. Digging into the pie again he closed his eyes as pleasure consumed his taste buds, opening them as he swallowed. “Blackie was on her like white on rice, bet he knows where the pie goddess is,” he pointed out. “Do a brother a solid? When you find her ask her if she’ll be my personal baker, will you?” He questioned hopefully.
Blackie.
I’ll fucking kill him. Gut him like a fucking fish if he touched her.
I don’t know where the possessiveness came from, didn’t really care either. Reina came here looking for me.
She brought me a pie.
I’d be fucking damned if I would let any of the brothers make a play for her. She wasn’t like the rest of the women here. Most of them club whores who had their cunts stretched by every dick in this place.
I stalked through the clubhouse, eyes searching for my vice president. I didn’t even realize my hand had subconsciously pulled my knife from my pocket or that my other hand had clenched into a tight fist at my side.
“Looking for someone?” I heard Blackie ask from behind me causing me to freeze in my tracks. I slowly turned around, my grip tightening around the knife. He lifted the joint he was smoking, which was small enough to be a roach, to his mouth and took a hit. He inhaled, holding his breath for a moment to get the most out of his hit. He exhaled a stream of smoke, flicking the joint onto the ground before crushing it with his boot.
“What’d you do with her?” I growled, grabbing hold of his throat and yanking him forward, desperate to see fear in his eyes, knowing it would never come. He gave me nothing, remained calm, allowing me to dig my fingers into his throat without so much as blinking an eye.
“I find you laid so much as a finger on her I will cut you,” I threatened, leaning close to his ear so my words were only his to hear.
“Go ahead, brother.” His last word, a reminder that this man I was choking, threatening to slice, was more of a brother than my biological brother.
“Be doing me a favor,” he struggled to bite out.
I dug my fingers deeper, my control slipping as I pulled back a fraction and stared into his blank eyes. Blackie was going through his own shit in his life, had been ever since his junkie of a wife overdosed. He never bounced back from that, much like I had never been right since my son’s death. I kept myself medicated to carry on while Blackie kept himself drunk. He was a functioning alcoholic, making it hard to keep track of when he was deep into a bottle or stone cold sober. The stench of whiskey ripped through my senses affirming the latter was usually never the case.
“Christ, you fucking reek,” I hissed, loosening my grip on his throat and watching as he stumbled backward slightly. I shook my head in disgust, disappointed in both him and myself. Him, for letting that no good bitch fuck up the rest of his life because she was a greedy old lady who loved the needle more than she loved him. Me, because I was losing control over some pussy I had no business having. Reina wasn’t even my type. Not that I was picky, I’d fuck anything with two legs and a hole but I normally steered clear from the damsel in distress bit. It wasn’t my thing. I was no prince. I wasn’t the rescuing type.