I smirk, thankful that he can’t see me right now. I would definitely not be able to keep a straight face, because fuck him. Fuck him all the way in the goddamn ass. I have to press my lips together, trying not to smart off or tell him that.
“Don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. She signed the fucking contract.”
He clears his throat. “I know you’re staying with her. I just want to remind you that she’s not yours.”
Ah, so there it is. He’s insecure. I almost laugh, but I don’t, because I don’t want to piss him off any more than he already is. I want him to leave me the fuck alone. I want him to leave Lainey alone, too. In fact, I think I would be okay if he were dead.
“I’m doing my job,” I state. “So you need to worry about your fucking self. Anything else?” I ask.
There is a moment of silence before he clears his throat. “Just reminding you,” he says.
“No need,” I snap.
Instead of saying anything else—anything that could piss him off and ruin the relationship between them and our club—I end the call and shove my phone into my pocket. I will never answer a call from that number again.Fuck Paul. Fuck him wholly and fully.
I keep watching the women at the shop. They’re all waving their arms around as they talk animatedly. It’s cute as fuck. And as my eyes find Lainey, well, as I cannot tear my gaze away from her, I wonder what the hell I’m doing.
I should claim her.
Keep her.
Contracts and rules be damned, because when you die, when your life is over, that shit does not matter, not in the fucking slightest. I could end Paul tomorrow, and all I would have to do is deal with Lorenzo.
Who is easy enough.
Sure, he’s a hard-ass, but I am fairly confident he’d be willing to make some kind of deal. Though he may not look too highly on a second murder of one of his men. Crossing my arms over my chest, I tip my chin slightly and look at the front window of the shop.
The women appear happy, and I let that soak in because I wish it could stay that way. I’ve been standing across the street, watching customers and old ladies go in and out of this bakery for weeks, but right now, just them in there, it hits differently. Maybe because this is the end.
This is the end of a goddamn fucking era.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
VIKING
“That motherfucker called me,”I snap into the phone.
Bullet doesn’t say anything immediately. I hear him hum, but he otherwise stays quiet, at least for a moment. When he does speak, I’m surprised by the words. Not just the fact that he did it, but that he didn’t warn me about it. That’s what shocks the shit out of me.
“I know. I gave him your number.”
Narrowing my eyes, I look straight ahead at the bakery. The women are starting to move around the store. I don’t know what they’re talking about or looking at exactly, but I can tell that whatever it is, judging by their body language, it’s exciting.
I’m not even sure how to respond to Bullet’s words. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I let out a hiss.
“Are you going to explain why exactly?” I ask when he doesn’t continue.
There’s got to be a reason. And I would hope to fuck it’s a good one, too. I’m not so sure, though. At this point, anything ispossible. I don’t know what the fuck would go through his mind that he wouldn’t tell me that Paul would be calling me. That shit caught me off guard, and that’s not cool at all.
“Do I need to?” he asks.
I pinch the bridge of my nose as I look down at my boots, then shift it back up to the window.
“I would fucking think so,” I grind out. “Since I have not the first goddamn clue as to why.”
“For this right here.”
I like how Bullet thinks he’s being fucking funny. I don’t find him the least bit comical, though. I’m glad he’s not here in front of me because I could throw down about this shit. I’m not sure if this is a test or what, but I don’t like any part of what he’s playing at. I don’t respond to him, either, because I think he’s being fucking ridiculous right now.