to help them overcome their reluctance and disgust. Now it was ingrained in them to want, even need, the sexual gratification of both traits. He sighed. Scarlet would tell him to let it go. Maybe she was right.
He glanced at Destroyer. He hadn’t been raised with them. He’d been in a prison, a completely different environment. There was no way to know what he was thinking. No expression crossed his face and those dark glasses were very dark, hiding his eyes. He might not have heard any of the exchange, although Absinthe knew better.
Alena handed him the plate of potato salad. Destroyer murmured a polite and succinct “Thanks” before she could turn away. She nodded abruptly without looking at him. Absinthe didn’t think they were going to be friends any time soon. He couldn’t tell with Ice and Storm. Her brothers hadn’t given any indication of where they were leaning as far as Destroyer was concerned. Savage and Reaper were the kind of men who were black or white. If he made one wrong move, they’d kill him. If he worked with the team, he was part of Torpedo Ink and welcome.
“Coming up the embankment is Holler, the last one of the day managers. He manages the Devil’s Palace. That’s the most hedonistic club. They have quite a back room set up and a basement with a bullshit dungeon,” Savage informed them. “Guess they don’t want trouble with the cops because nothing in that dungeon is the real deal.”
“Too bad,” Reaper commented. “You would have some fun with these boys. They’d find out they don’t know shit about what they were doing with that woman.”
“They’ll find out,” Savage said. “I’ll re-create their work and critique it for them.”
He stood up and stretched, a lazy ripple of muscle, much like a panther. “You about done with that salad, Destroyer? Thought we’d take Holler since he’s so set on givin’ us the opportunity.”
Destroyer nodded and handed Alena his empty plate. “Big difference,” he admitted. “You’ve got a rare talent.”
She’d opened her mouth to protest that he’d given her the dirty paper plate to dispose of but pressed her lips together at the compliment. Destroyer sauntered off, not a whisper of movement or sound even in the grass following in his wake.
Ice and Storm were all business, both retrieving sniper rifles to cover the two men as they crossed the asphalt-covered parking area to intercept Holler as he came toward the upper parking lot where the vehicles, mostly motorcycles, had been left. A couple of bored prospects guarded the bikes but paid no attention to the trucks and two cars the women had brought to carry chairs and food. The prospects had their backs to the stairs carved into the side of the embankment Holler climbed.
Destroyer casually wrapped the Venomous club member up as he swaggered past, one hand over his mouth, muffling any sound, while Savage injected him directly in the neck, putting him to sleep almost immediately. The two carried him back to the other end of the lot where Torpedo Ink’s trucks and cars were parked along with several others enjoying the sunset. It took all of five seconds to finish stowing him under a tarp.
Savage glanced at his watch. “Wings and Jacko have a little rendezvous planned in a few minutes with an underage girl they’ve been corresponding with online. They’ll be coming up those stairs any moment. We’ll have to be their welcoming committee. She’s very young. Black hair. Hot as hell. Sent them her picture and everything. Wearing a string bikini to show them her smokin’-hot bod.”
Destroyer glanced at Alena, who patted the short black wig she wore. She opened the little button-up shirt she had on, showing her generous breasts nearly falling out of the triangles held up by two strings. She had flawless skin dotted by tiny freckles that made her look even younger than usual. She batted her eyelashes at Mechanic and Transporter as she closed the shirt she wore.
Absinthe noticed she avoided looking at Destroyer. It was impossible to tell if he was looking at her, although who wouldn’t look at her? She was beautiful, even in a black wig. She was a true platinum blond, just as Ice and Storm were, but somehow, she still managed to pull off the black hair.
“They’ll definitely be looking at you and not anywhere around them,” Transporter said, grinning. “You’re on, babe. Don’t draw the attention of the prospects by walking like a model.”
Alena rolled her