Property of Drex (Book 2)(16)

“The fuck did you just say?” I growl, interrupting him and drawing attention to our conversation.

His eyebrows go up. “Drake just picked her up. The same routine she’s had all week. He picks her and drops her off at—”

The rest turns to static as I flip my chair over while leaping up and digging my keys out of my pocket on my way out the door. Pretty sure Pop is yelling for me, but he can fuck off. No way did I hear Rush right.

Drake is stupid but not suicidal. He put my name on her himself.

White hot rage shoots up my spine, and I squeal out of the hangar while hauling ass away from the warehouse. Blue lights flash when I pass a patrol car, but they die instantly when they get a look at my cut. I don’t slow down until I’m skidding into Drake’s tattoo parlor’s parking lot. His bike is here, so he’d better fucking be here.

And Eve had better not fucking be here.

Dash’s eyebrows go up in confusion when he sees me, and he stands from his seat just outside the door. I ignore him and throw the door open. Drake is hunched over a body, tattooing a guy who looks like a stockbroker.

He doesn’t even flinch as he looks up, but a slow smile spreads.

“Hello, sunshine. Was wondering when you’d show up,” he drawls.

I glare at him, but my entire body tenses when I hear her voice.

“Drex?”

I turn around to see Eve lounging on a couch in the side room like it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to do. My eyes flip back to Drake, and the stupid fucker winks at me.

Just as I stalk toward him, a strong hand clamps down on my shoulder.

“Not what you’re thinking,” Dash groans, trying to pull me back.

The stockbroker shakes in his chair, eyes wide as I shrug Dash off. Drake slowly stands, still smiling and inviting death to come his way.

“Don’t make me add a lily that says ‘cunt cream’ to complement that sweet daisy you had covered up,” Drake goads, still fucking smiling.

“Drex!” Eve’s voice cuts through the air like a knife, and she’s suddenly in front of me. “What’s your problem?”

I glare down at her, while Dash tries to place himself between me and Drake. Guess I’m hitting them both. As soon as I get Eve out of the way without touching her, that is. Touching her leads to kissing her and possibly fucking her, then dragging her back into hell with me.

“Move, Eve.”

She glares defiantly up at me, making me actually miss the days she was scared of me.

“No. What the hell is your problem?”

“This is my fucking problem!” I gesture between her and Drake, and she cocks an eyebrow at me. “The hell are you doing with him?”

She actually fucking smiles. “Are you jealous?”

Drake chokes on a laugh but smothers it quickly while turning away. Dash covers his mouth to hide his smile.

Eve continues to beam up at me, and I curse while stepping back.

“Come on. I’m taking you home.” Still careful not to touch her, I motion for her to walk out, but she just crosses her arms over her chest as her smile dies.

“No. I work here. And last I checked, you kicked me out of your life, so you no longer have a say in what I do.”

I groan again while scrubbing my face with my hands. She fucking works here? Hell no. Someone is getting their ass kicked for not telling me this shit.

“Your girl is badass. Didn’t know she was an artist,” Drake goes on. The buzzing resumes as he goes back to tattooing the douchebag in the chair.

Eve stiffens, and I cock my head to the side. She’s an artist?

“I’m not his girl anymore,” she says quietly, clearing her throat as she pulls her shirt up her arm to cover the tattoo she apparently has exposed when I’m not around.

I tug the sleeve back down to let it hang, and her breath hitches at the touch. Groaning, I try to pull my hand back, but it decides to trace the lines of my name on her instead.

She looks up at me, leaning into the touch, and I slide my other hand down to her waist, pulling her closer. She doesn’t fight me. Instead, she lets me tug her all the way to my body before I lift her up and crush my lips against hers.

Her legs immediately wrap around my waist, and she moans into my mouth as her fingers tangle in my hair. I walk her back into the room with the couch, and she stays in my lap as I drop down, sitting on the sofa.

When she grinds against me, I start tugging at the button on her tight little shorts, ready to be buried inside her to remind everyone in this fucking place she’s mine.

Then it slams back to me, and I curse while breaking away from the kiss and dropping the button I just got undone.

“Fuck! Why the fuck did you have to work with Drake?” I growl, trying and failing to force myself to push her away from me.

“Because I needed a job where I fit in. Something that didn’t make me miserable. I love it here,” she says softly, leaning forward to kiss me again.

I barely miss her lips, and I finally manage to stand and dump her onto the couch in one motion. She glares up at me.

“Hot and cold. Why even kiss me if you don’t fucking want me anymore?”

That mouth on her has gotten braver. That’s for damn sure. Of course, working here for a week has probably helped with that.

I wish that mouth was doing something much more productive than bitching at me. I also wish… I wish a lot of things. Doesn’t change anything.

Adjusting my painfully hard cock in my jeans, I turn around and walk back into the room where Drake is finishing up and smiling at me again.

“Touch her and I’ll put you in the bed beside Jessie.”

That kills his smile instantly.

“I’d never do what he did, and you fucking know it,” he snarls.

“Didn’t say you would. I’m saying if you touch her at all. Understand?”

His lips twitch when he no longer feels insulted.

“So you don’t want me but no one else can have me?”

Damn her.

I turn to see Eve glaring at me, and it makes me want to just kill Drake to save myself the hassle of worrying about this.

“You want him?” I ask, getting right in her face. She has no idea how close I am to fucking her on the floor to prove a damn point.

“No. I want you. But you know this already. Doesn’t mean you get to threaten someone I might want later on when I finally take the fucking hint you’re done.”

Not even going to admit how sick that makes me to even think about. No one better touch her. Not if they want to keep walking. I don’t care if he’s a saint who saves children from starvation. If he wants to keep his dick, then it’ll stay out of my girl, even I can’t have her.

She can have a vibrator or something. I’ll buy it.

“I’m not fucking you,” Drake immediately points out. “Sorry, sweetie. Not even your pretty ass is worth that man’s rage. I’m all about flower power. Not violence.”

I glare over my shoulder at Drake, knowing the asshole is just mocking me at this point. Dash has to walk away before he actually laughs.

Fucker.

Eve continues to seethe, and I continue to make an ass out of myself by even being here. Instead of doing something I’ll regret—like taking her back to the couch—I turn and walk out the door.

I need a fucking drink.





Chapter 15



EVE



“You’re like a little miracle doll,” Drake tells me as I finish cleaning up all his equipment.

I get to design, and I get to earn more money by doing all the things that eat up a lot of his time—like clean, run the register, hand out aftercare instructions, make appointments, answer the phone… The list is ridiculous.

“I don’t know how you’ve been doing it alone for so long.”

He shrugs. “I had help for a couple of years, but he branched out and created his own business. Even stole some of my clients when Drex and I had a falling out.”

I tilt my head as he opens the door, and stand under the awning when I walk out while he finishes locking up. One of the Death Dealer guards loads up on his bike, despite the rain, and heads out onto the road.

“Cecil,” he elaborates.

I’ve heard them mention the phantom tattoo artist.

“Gotcha. So why haven’t you hired someone else?” I ask as he walks me out to his car.

It’s raining, so we’re not taking his bike tonight. I’m grateful he lives close to where I’m staying, since he can give me a ride every day.

He answers as soon as we get inside, and I move some of my wet hair away from my face.

“Because I have to trust someone I hire. You’ve heard how those guys just rattle on while I’m inking them up. Especially the ones waiting their turn.”

He’s right. It’s amazing how much they run their mouths in front of me there when they were zip-lipped in front of me at the warehouse. I’ve learned more about the Death Dealers while working in the shop for the past week and a half than I ever learned about them when I lived amongst them.

It’s weird.

But every time someone mentions Drex being a loose cannon, they always let their eyes drift toward me as though they’re waiting on me to comment. And I always feel that void in my chest ache a little harder with each mention of the man who has marked me for life in so many ways.

“I see how that could be tricky.”

He nods. “I’m neutral ground. If I trust someone, they trust them. I don’t act like I hear anything, and I keep my mouth shut. Anyone I hire has to be able to do the same, hence the reason you’re a godsend. Just that ink—which you wisely show off—gives you automatic trust. Drex wouldn’t just let any girl walk around with his name and his club’s logo, and I wouldn’t ink it on anyone without his direct consent.”