Page 116 of Ice Me Out

“Look. I appreciate the concern, but we’re good. Vera is young, but she’s intelligent, driven, focused, and disciplined.

As if the universe wanted to punish me, a story notification from Vera announced itself on my phone. I opened it, and it didn’t take long for my mouth to drop when I saw Vera enthusiastically and seductively dancing to industrial metal.

“You good, Hart?” Marlon asked when I started yanking on my earring.

“Nah. That man is stressing out,” Morgan commented.

I ignored my teammates and focused on my woman cutting up on some dance floor bathed in strobe lights. She wore a leather two-piece fit, which consisted of what I considered a strip of fabric over her tits and hips, paired with fishnets. Her eyelids and lips gave her a vampire-goth look, and her braids were fashioned into a crown of knots in the front, with the rest down in the back.

I groaned and turned my phone face down. I gripped my hair, bracing my elbows on the table. I was in so much agony that I hadn’t noticed when Christiansen swiped my phone.

“Oh, my stomach would be hurting right now if I were you,” he said, laughing maniacally.

“Let me see,” Rossi said, leaning over his shoulder. “Oh, the WAGs aren’t gonna like her.”

“I guess this is what we’re calling disciplined these days,” Morgan said with a laugh.

My phone was passed around with everyone adding their commentary.

“You’re stronger than me, brother,” Marlon said, sliding my phone to Boris.

“She has good taste. This music is popular in Russia.”

I had had enough and snatched my phone from Boris, refreshing the story.

Morgan cleared his throat, and I waited for some bullshit to leave his mouth. “I still stand by what I said.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’d let her ruin my credit expeditiously.”

The table erupted while I watched Vera and Monica grind on each other. I tried calling her, and it went straight to voicemail. She texted a few seconds later.

Sugar: I know you’re watching. Come find me.

I stood abruptly.

“Where are you going?” Marlon asked.

“That’s a rhetorical question. He’s obviously about to go stalk his girl,” Christiansen announced.

“It’s not stalking if I have her location,” I said, throwing bills on the table. My teammates howled as I shrugged on my jacket and left without offering a single goodbye.

I called Vera as I left the bar and ran into the thirsty chick and her friends from earlier. They mean-mugged me, and the urge to flip them off was strong, but I had better things to worry about, like finding my girlfriend, who was about to become Blade’s next victim.

Heavy bass rippled through the speaker.

“Hello? Vera?”

“Vera’s a little busy right now!” someone shouted.

“Put her on the phone!”

“I can’t. She’s pulling a lick right now.”

“What?” I responded, confused as fuck. I became even more confused when Marlon slid into the passenger seat of my Bronco, and Christiansen jumped in the back. “What the hell are y’all doing?”

“For moral support,” Marlon answered, adjusting the heater.

My eyes landed on Christiansen in the rear-view mirror. “And you?”

He grinned wickedly. “Places like that will be teeming with trade.”