Page 28 of Shadow's Surrender
“I went for a ride,” Shadow said as he leaned back, snapped his fingers, then stretched out his legs.
Wendy rushed over. “What is it, honey? You need some loving?” She inadvertently glanced over at Smokey, then back at Shadow.
“I need three aspirin, please.”
She ran her nails through his hair and lightly massaged his temples. “Okay, honey.” She sashayed away.
“What’s going on with you?” Rags asked.
“He’s got the hots for the rich bitch in the castle,” Helm said as he swung his leg over the chair and sat down.
Shadow narrowed his eyes. “I’m not in the mood to kick your ass, so keep your fuckin’ thoughts to yourself.”
A low whistle escaped through Rags’ teeth. “Damn. You hate those rich assholes. I never figured you’d go for one of the princesses.”
“You want a problem with me too?” Shadow growled as he tossed the aspirin in his mouth and took the glass of water from Wendy. “Thanks.” He winked at her and she leaned down and kissed his cheek.
“Anytime you need me, you got me.” She squeezed his bicep. “But you already know that.” Giggling, she smiled at the men and walked slowly away.
“The way her hips sway and her ass bounces when she walks gives me a fuckin’ hard-on,” Rags said.
“Everything gives you a hard-on,” Throttle said as he joined the group. Shadow and Helm laughed.
“Fuck off,” Rags said, a tinge of amusement lacing his voice.
“How was work today?” Helm asked as he scooped up a handful of nuts from the bowl on the table.
“Brutal. It’s too fuckin’ hot out there. We sent two of our guys home today ’cause they looked like they were gonna pass out or something,” Throttle replied.
“Heat stroke is a real serious thing. There are a number of symptoms you can look out for to tell if it’s that or maybe heat exhaustion,” Helm said.
“Did you watch a documentary on this?” Rags asked.
“I just know shit,” Helm said before popping some more nuts into his mouth.
“It may have been something like that, but I didn’t wanna take any chances, so I sent them home and told them to see a doctor or something.” Throttle looked over at Shadow. “Smokey’s madder than fuck at you, dude. He said you blew off work.”
“I guess everyone in the damn club knows about it, huh?” Shadow replied.
“Yep, pretty much,” Helm answered.
“That’s not cool, dude.” Throttle took a swig of his beer.
“Smokey and me already sorted it out, so it’s old news now.” Shadow folded his arms across his chest.
“He says you’re acting like a fuckin’ asshole with”—Throttle snapped his fingers—“Some chick who lives there. Hell, I don’t remember what the fuck he told me.”
“Then you shouldn’t be opening your fuckin’ mouth,” Shadow gritted.
Throttle pushed the table forward and jumped out of his chair. “You wanna do something about that?” His body was as rigid as an arrow.
Searing pain sliced through Shadow’s head when he stood up. “I’m ready if you are.”
“Both of you sit the fuck down,” Rags said. “You”—he pointed at Throttle—“didn’t know what the fuck you were saying, so you shouldn’t have said shit, and”—he glanced over at Shadow—“you either like this rich chick more than you want to admit, or you’re just in a fuckin’ bad mood today. So both of you sit your asses down.”
Throttle laughed as he sank back down. “That’s it—Smokey said you had a hard cock for the chick who lives there. She’s Mr. Mansfield’s daughter. Damn, dude, you of all people? You hate rich folks.”
Shadow resumed his seat and motioned for the prospect to bring him another glass of water. “I do, so you can see why the shit Smokey’s saying is fuckin’ ridiculous.”
