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“Need you to pass along a message.”
“I’m listening.”
“One of his club brothers is looking for him. He needs to call home. Something to do with his stepsister.”
“Will do. See you when we pass back through.” I end the call and scrub my hand over my face. Last thing I want to do is play messenger for Creed but if his stepsister is in trouble, then maybe her problems will send his ass back home and far away from Ember.
Putting my pride aside, I approach the asshole. He’s got an arm slung over Ember’s shoulder, looking a little too fucking comfortable with her. Have to admit, I didn’t see shit shaking out the way it has. I know his type. I’ve been Creed. A player.
I approach them, earning me a snotty look from Ember. She can hate me all she wants. I know I fucked up. He’s not the man for her and she’ll come to see that. I’m going to win her back.
Somehow.
Someway.
“Not this shot again,” Creed mutters, shoving Ember behind him.
“I’m not here to fight you. Plague called. You’re needed back home. Your stepsister’s got a situation.”
“No cap?”
“Call her.”
“Don’t go anywhere, beautiful.” He kisses Ember on the forehead and bile hits the back of my throat. I should kick his ass, but right now isn’t the time.
There’s too much shit happening. My personal shit has to go on the back burner until we get the sign that the target has been dealt with. Sorry fuck tried to slip in undetected.
“You having a good time?” I question Ember once Creed moves off to make his call.
“Like you care?”
“Maybe I care a little too much.”
“Please. Spare us both and stop lying. I saw you earlier.”
“Saw me what?”
“With that woman.”
“Who? Madz?”
“I don’t care what her name is. It’s none of my business.”
“It’s yours if you want it to be.”
“You can do whoever you want.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I’m really not in the mood, Smoke.”
I change the subject since this conversation is headed nowhere fast. “How are you feeling? Heard you’ve been sick.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t come over here feigning fake concern for show. No one is paying attention.”
“I care about you.”
“No. You don’t, Smoke. If you cared about me at all, you would have never done what you did. You wouldn’t have messed around with someone seconds after breaking my heart.”
