Page 69 of Rest In Pieces
Itake Amity downstairs and lead her over to one of the empty tables near the bar.
“Drink?”
“Just water for me.”
I head over to the bar and signal to Dice. “Grab me a bottle of water and a Coke.”
“You got it. I’ll bring it over.”
“Thanks, man,” I say, turning and walking back over to Amity. I take a seat next to her and lean in close. “I’m sorry.”
“What do you have to be sorry for?”
I groan. “I hoped to give you a drama-free experience here this time.”
“I mean, are MCs ever drama-free?”
I chuckle. “Good point.”
“I feel bad for Legs,” she says with a sigh. “And to be honest, I’d like to punch Midas in the face a few times.”
I reach into my back pocket, pull out my brass knuckles, and hand them to her. “Might as well make it count. Someone needs to knock some sense into the fucker.”
She takes them from me and slips them on. I don’t know what the fuck it says about me, but seeing her wear them makes my dick hard.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she whispers.
“Like what?” I swallow, my eyes still on her now-closed fist.
“Like you’re picturing me stroking your cock while wearing these. And like you want to see them dripping with your cum.”
“Jesus, woman, are you trying to kill me?”
She grins, her hand slipping under the table and gliding up my thigh to my hard cock. She trails her fingers over it just as Dice sets our drinks down on the table. She pulls her hand away, and I picture all the ways I could kill the prospect and get rid of his body, the cock-blocking motherfucker.
“Thanks.” Amity beams at him with a big smile. That wench, she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
When Dice heads back to the bar, she turns back to me, placing her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her palm. “So what’s the deal with Legs and Midas? He didn’t seem like a dick last night, so now I’m wondering if I misjudged him.”
Is she serious right now? She looks at me with big, innocent eyes, but I’m not buying it for a damn second.
That’s fine. I can wait.
I shrug. “If you would’ve asked me a week ago, I would’ve said, ‘nothing.’” I pick up my Coke and take a drink. “They do spend a lot of time together, but a lot of brothers have girls they prefer. It cuts down on jealousy and bullshit. I didn’t think it was anything more than that, but then I saw them arguing the other night. And with what just happened…” I shake my head. “There’s definitely more to it.”
“There does seem to be an awful lot of tension between them.”
“You got that right. I just don’t want Legs getting hurt.”
She narrows her eyes at me, and I rush to explain.
“I don’t mean physically. Midas would cut off his own arm before he ever laid a hand on a woman in anger. But—” I hesitate, not wanting to make my brother look bad. I might want to kill him right now, but he’s still my brother.
“He might tell her what she wants to hear to get her to stay,” she guesses.
“Yeah. He doesn’t want the same things Legs does. He mentioned that he told you he can’t have kids.”
“And Legs wants to be a mom.” She sighs softly.