It wasn’t until West and I parted ways that I made a call.

“Yo, Gun, what’s happenin’?” Death answered. The awkward stage had gone when he’d walked in on Zion and me half naked, hard, and ready to play. No one couldn’t be at ease around Death; he was just that type of guy.

The brothers had taken it in stride and started to call me Gun right away after Country had patched me in. It was good, made me feel complete within the club and like I belonged more than I had within the brothers. It’d also been the same day where we’d punished the motherfucking cunt Steve. Along with the gunshot wound in his foot, he had a broken hand, a busted-up face, and a threat that if he ever stepped out of line with another woman in his life, he’d be dead. Death had made sure to set up surveillance on him. No one got away with shit that involved the club in any way. People would learn that eventually.

“Just got a question for you, brother.”

“Hit me,” Death stated.

“You got any openins’ in the surveillance room for two people?”

He started to chuckle. “I’m guessin’ one is you. What, Saint doesn’t like his man around others?”

“He hasn’t said shit, but I’d be more comfortable in a different situation.” It wasn’t that I hated working at the Polished Pussies and Penises club. I did like it. I enjoyed making my clients happy for the hours I was with them. But lately, I’d been feeling like shit going out on dates, even when it was work, without Zion there. It felt like, in a way, I was stepping out on him.

Jesus, I was mad for the guy.

“Who’s the other?” Death asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

“West.”

He hummed under his breath. “Leave it with me.”

“Will do, brother,” I said and ended the call. If this worked out, the money might not be the same, but I heard it was still good. It could work out for West and me. Fuck, I hoped so.

Chapter Sixteen

Saint

Smiling, I sat with my back against the headboard of my bed and Kylo between my spread legs while he rested against my chest and we watched some fucking show Kylo liked about werewolves. I’d just finished telling him about Boom’s phone call.

Kylo snorted. He tilted his head so he could look up at me. “He seriously threatened to cut off your balls and said even though I probably like them?”

“Yep,” I replied.

“Jesus.” Kylo shook his head and shifted to watch his show again. I curled my arms around his shoulders tighter. It was moments like these I loved—just the quiet times where we could chill, talk, and just be with each other.

“Well?” I asked.

“Well what?” Kylo questioned.

“Do you like my balls?”

He snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, Zion. I like them enough that I want to keep them on your body, so you better not piss me off or hurt me, or I’ll sic Boom onto you.”