Page 121 of Caution to the Wind

“Next time,” she said in a low, velvety purr. “Don’t waste that cum on my underwear. I can think of better places for it.”

I’d avoided her as much as I could for three days.

Lucky for me, there was a fuck ton to do.

We were all hands on fuckin’ deck doin’ recon on the Seven Song, and we quickly sussed out their system.

They funnelled money into the country with foreign nationals from China who handed off suitcases and briefcases full of cash to straw men who’d take it to one of the casinos in Vancouver or, unfortunately for us and the T-Bird Squad, the Indigenous-owned casino, Lake Edge, to “wash it” at the tables. They’d bet a little and cash out the rest, exchangin’ their dirty money with fresh casino cash.

They also used their dirty funds to invest in real estate and failin’ businesses, or in the case of Stella’s Diner and Honey Bear Café, businesses that were good fronts for money launderin’.

It was brilliant but fuckin’bold. The provincial gamin’ commission was on to them, which was why they’d hightailed it up to the rez to funnel money through Lake Edge Casino.

Still, it worked.

And the cops didn’t have Curtains’ hackin’ skills to link it all back to one little commercial space in Vancouver’s Chinatown.

The Golden Door Inn.

If it sounded familiar, it was ’cause it was the same name as the front of the Seven Song triad in Calgary, where I’d once had a meet with Jiang.

We got to work shorin’ up weaknesses in local businesses, startin’ with Loulou reachin’ out to her old high school boyfriend, Reece Ross, to offer him a loan from the club so he wouldn’t sell to the triads and followin’ up with Curtains installin’ security in some of the storefronts that’d been targeted.

Street Ink Tattoo Parlour was also fucked-up levels of busy now that Jae Pil was out with a broken hand. We’d brought in a buddy from a shop in Vancouver we trusted to pick up some of the slack, but we already had a six-month waitin’ list, and it was just gettin’ longer. Not to mention, without Sara, we had a temp runnin’ the front desk and doin’ it in a way that made it clear he was drownin’.

I was complainin’ about it with Nova where we sat loungin’ in a black velvet booth at the Wet Lotus Strip Club we owned in town, ostensibly celebratin’ Lionel Danner’s bachelor party after a day of ridin’ bikes up the Sea to Sky for lunch at a steakhouse in Whistler and then an afternoon of some of us ridin’ horses out at his ranch. It was the perfect end of the day, accordin’ to most of the chapter, only Lion was facin’awayfrom the stage, playin’ poker with Wrath, Lysander, Buck, and Zeus. It wasn’t that H.R. would’ve been pissed with him for appreciatin’ the girls undulatin’ their bodies on stage––she was born and raised a biker chick, and she was cool as shit about that kinda thing––but Lion didn’t give a fuck about anyone save her.

And for the first time in my life, I got him.

The woman twirlin’ from the pole five feet from our table was as relevant to me as a muted TV in the background. Even though I was shootin’ the shit with Nova, King, Bat, and Dane, all I could see was Mei.

She’d infiltrated my life like a fuckin’ disease, and I was gettin’ worried there wasn’t a damn antidote.

The truth was, no matter how hard I tried, she was always the first thing I noticed when I entered the room. It wasn’t that she was beautiful, even though her sheer loveliness was blatant, almost glarin’. It was that no matter where Mei was or what she was doin’, she did it with confidence. With purpose. She’d drawn the eye by sheer force of her magnetic personality. Once, if Mei’d told me she would do somethin’, however outlandish, I would’ve believed her ’cause she was just that powerful, that capable, even at seventeen. Now that she was grown, it was even more palpable.

I caught her watchin’ me too much, but I couldn’t even snap at her ’cause the only reason I’d noticed was ’cause I was watchin’ her right back.

“Mei mentioned to Lila that she’d be happy to fill in,” Nova was sayin’, and even though I’d been zonin’ out, Mei’s name brought everythin’ back into focus.

“Not a bad idea,” Bat mused. “Girl’s got enough tatts. She’s gotta know a decent amount about the art’a tattooin’.”

“That’s what I figured.”

“Hell no,” I barked, shocked that they were even havin’ this discussion. “I’m not havin’ Mei Zhen in the shop every day.”

Nova rolled his eyes at my high drama, probably ’cause that was usually his fuckin’ role. “It’d just be ’til we find someone actually fuckin’ qualified. That idiot today made an appointment for sixty minutes when we needed threehoursto do the back piece my client wanted. He’s worse than useless.”

I sucked back a swig of beer as I tried to fight through the auto-response anger and rationalise why it was such a piss-poor idea to have Mei in the shop.

It didn’t work.

“I already got the girl in my town, in my goddamn home sleepin’ down the hall. You think I want her at work too?”

“What’s the big deal?” King asked, too innocent, wide-eyed like some kinda kid when he’d been a man since he was a preteen and his dad went down the first time. “She’s just your daughter’s kid best friend. It’s not like she’s…distractin’, right?”

“She’s the human version of a nightmare,” I retorted.

Nova snorted. “Yeah, a nightmare you want to fuck.”