Page 17 of Shadow

I shrug, playing it cool, “Shadow and I have a mutual interest.”

I don’t want to say too much just in case I’m not supposed to be talking about what’s going on. Carla seems like a cool chick, but she doesn’t owe me any loyalty.

“Well, you’re in good hands with Shadow.” Carla’s cheeks flush a pretty rosy pink like she’s thinking about Shadow’sgoodhands.

I want to hop over the bar and pop her in the eye, but I have no reason to do that. Just because he saved my life twice, put me up in a swanky hotel, and took care of all my needs, doesn’t make him mine. We spent a few days in a hotel room, and not once did he make a move. He actually left me alone in my room while he was in his. I would’ve thought he’d left if I didn’t periodically hear the channels on the tv change. It was like he was purposely avoiding me.

So, we didn’t have any deep conversations. Hell! I don’t even know the man’s last name. I only know hisfirstname because another chick had been fawning over him once again. I don’t know anything about who Shadow is.

But that doesn’t stop those little balls of green envy from bubbling to the surface whenever I think about Shadow being with someone else.

“That’s good to know,” I respond with a blank face.

Carla flips her long brown hair over her shoulder, and she leans toward me with a twinkle in her light brown eyes. I automatically mirror her posture cause it’s obvious she’s about to spill some more information.

“It was so hot how he fucked up Paws for you the other day. Everybody saw it!” Carla says excitedly. “I know you must be something special cause I ain’t never seen Shadow act like that over a bitch before.”

“Excuse me… bitch?” I lean away from Carla with pursed lips. She doesn’t know me to be calling me a bitch.

“Oh! You’re an outsider… I thought you were one of us.” Carla looks at me like I’m an alien, and then a wide smile breaks out on her face.

“What do you mean? One of you?” I ask cause I feel like this chick is speaking a foreign language.

“I thought you were about the club life. You look like one of us. You seemed awfully comfortable talking to the Prez. It ain’t too many bi— women who can hang with the Sinners. Look, let me say this. Bitch don’t mean nothin’ bad. It’s just another word like any other. If you’re gonna be hanging around here, I’m gonna school you on what to expect. These other bitches ain’t as nice, and they’ll eat your pretty little ass up.”

I nod, impressed. I guess I’ll be getting club bitch lessons today.

Twelve

LIKE GLUE

SHADOW

“Why were you by yourself?” I question the Oeste, who is black and blue and bruised all over.

The asshole is a tough one cause no matter what we’ve thrown at his ass. He refuses to answer our questions.

My knuckles are bruised, and I’m frustrated as fuck. But I need to know why the fuck an Oeste was in Teagan’s apartment, if Everett had anything to do with it, and where the fuck Everett is. But either this motherfucker doesn’t know, or he has a death wish.

I have practically beat his face in with my fists. His nose is broken, both eyes are almost completely swollen shut, and his lip is busted. But his ass won’t say a word. But I got something for him.

“Okay then. If you don’t wanna say shit, I have no use for you.” I pull out my phone and my gun.

I place the phone on speaker when the line connects, “Aye, Santino. I would love to give you this motherfucker, but he’s useless. So you can have his body instead,” I say to the leader of the rival gang of the Oeste’s.

“That’s fine with me. Fuck thatputa. Their motherfucking asses should be nowhere near Vegas. It’s an act of war,” Santino says something in Spanish, but whatever he said, the Oeste definitely understood because his swollen eyes go as wide as they can go before he gulps.

“I’m here alone. My crew doesn’t know nothin’ about this shit. It was a paid gig. Easy kill and make it look like a B and E.”

“Santino, I’ll give you a rain check.”

“Alright. You gave us the heads up when this fucker was in our territory, so you got yo raincheck.” Santino disconnects the call because there’s nothing left to be said.

I told them about the Oeste’s as a courtesy because we don’t have any beef with them. Sinners don’t owe anybody shit. A raincheck just means the next time we find an Oeste in Vegas, we give them to the Los Muertes.

“Who paid you?” I continue to question my prisoner.

“Ion know man. Some blonde bitch offered me ten g’s to eighty-six some black bitch.”