Page 56 of Venomous as a Snake

I cock my head to the side.

“God. You’re difficult to bargain with…” He taps his chin. “What if we make out for three rounds, you leave a few hickeys on my neck, and start the hand job when Walker gets back, but you help me finish in the car?”

Ali’s chuckle breaks my composure, and I end up giggling at Drew too.

“No.”

The honey badger narrows his jewel green eyes at me. “You’re supposed to counter-offer.”

“You’re hiding something with inappropriately timed humor.”

“Sometimes you are too perceptive,” Drew mumbles.

I raise my brows as I tighten my ponytail. “Spill your tea.”

“Clay bought a house about forty minutes south of Meena Beach,” Drew explains. “It’s what Walker and I have been arguing over. He thinks Bird-brain is after you, and I think he’s after us to get to you. Ali says that’s the same thing.”

“It is,” my dragon states.

“Komo is right,” I agree. “Either way, he wants to get to me. Whether that’s killing me or killing you to force me to submit—”

“Don’t be a downer,” Drew whines dramatically.

I roll my eyes. “He won’t succeed. Everything he’s done has been him taking credit for someone else’s work.”

“Show her the house,” Ali says.

“Text it to me. I’ll look at it later,” I say as Walker and Forrest take their seats at the table. “How is Collin?”

“He’s good,” Walker answers. “He fell asleep in the corner of the locker room while listening to his music.”

Inside the ring, two men stand toe-to-toe, exchanging punches. This is the most entertaining fight of the night, so I sit back to watch it unfold.

Clay’s glare makes my skin itch, but I don’t let my eyes drift away from the ring to meet him for the rest of the night. I just soak in the major fuck you of him seeing me sandwiched between my fearsome Lawless boys.

* * *

Collin wins.

No one shares in my shock, though they do yell at him while his opponent is standing. The fight stops at a minute and four seconds into round four out of twelve due to a knockout.

Color me fucking impressed.

He doesn’t strike me as the fighting type, but then again… At first glance, I don’t look like a killer.

The moment Collin is out of the ring, we abandon our table to weave through the vicious crowd as they cheer for more sweat and blood to splatter the canvas.

“Wait for us in the hallway,” Walker instructs as he and Forrest pull ahead.

Said hallway is quiet and nearly empty. Another group of friends huddle together on the left side of the locker room doors, laughing and shushing each other. And two men lean against the wall, brooding as they finish their clear plastic cups filled with beer.

The silence is eerie after the racket consuming the arena, but I bask in it while surveying our surroundings. I can’t imagine how overwhelming the cheering must be for shifters who aren’t deaf to the ambience of background sound. There were more people in front of me than behind, so my ears ring in quietness around us.

The roaring from the arena reaches a new octave, pouring through the closed door. And I’m thankful to be out of the thick of it. All I want is to go home, put on my giraffe onesie, and eat some chips and salsa.

I don’t know how much time passes while we wait for Walker, Forrest, and Collin… But I think I hear the bell ring for the fifth time when the locker room door opens.

Collin walks out, buttoning his jeans with his shirt tossed over his shoulder. He’s all grins and bright blue eyes, clearly happy with himself despite us rushing him out.