Uncontrollable Temptations (Tempted #3)(18)

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.

Too consumed with my own thoughts I didn’t see it coming but I sure as hell fucking felt it when Blackie’s fist collided with my jaw, making it my turn to stumble backward.

“Fuck you Bulldog,” he barked. “You ever put your fucking hands on me again and I will cut you with your own fucking knife. President or no goddamn president, brother or not, friend or motherfucking foe. You read me?” He questioned, eyes cold as they pierced me. “Now, I don’t know where your fucking girl is but if I had to guess she ran as far as she could from here.”

I worked my jaw, the blinding pain a reminder of a line I crossed with my vice president. Blackie blew out a breath, staring at me for a moment before shaking his head.

“She stormed the fuck out of here after she watched you get your dick sucked,” he sneered, closing the little space between us. “Don’t know much, but it’s plain to see you’re twisting for a taste of her,” he said, piercing me with a steady glare. “And with all you got on your plate, don’t think you can handle a piece like that on top of everything else.”

“Not your business, Blackie,” I hissed, watching as he leaned over the bar and snatched a bottle of whiskey. He took a swig, flinching a little as the burning liquid worked its way down his throat.

“I don’t recall asking your opinion,” I added.

He looked over his shoulder at me and remained silent for a moment before passing the whiskey my way. I reached for the bottle, took a gulp to numb the pain in my face.

“You got me running around, looking for a way to get close to Jimmy Gold, so you can have your revenge. You don’t give a shit, by doing so you’re setting this club up for heat we don’t fucking need,” he said roughly. “Now, I’m the man that stands beside you, has your back before anyone else and my job is to warn you when you’re in over your head,” he shook his head as he sighed. “That girl don’t have what it takes to handle you, man,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper. He seized back the bottle and took another healthy swig, shaking off the burn like a champ. “I’m telling you because I was one of the men that stood beside you when you went down that dark fucking path. You get in with the likes of a woman like that, you’re setting yourself up for all sorts of drama. You’re paving the way to that road again. Don’t want that for you. Not now. Not ever.”