“You look aggravated, brother. What’s up?” Max questioned, sprawled out on an old chair as he watched another bitch give a show to the other men lounging around the room.
“Nothing a stiff drink won’t cure. Rita, get me a tequila and a beer.”
“Sure thing, Ice.”
He flung himself down in an overstuffed chair next to Max. “Where’s Jackal?”
“Don’t know. He disappeared a couple of hours ago after he put some extra men on Deacon like you told him to.”
Ice nodded as he took his drinks from Rita. The sexy brunette was wearing a pair of blue-jean shorts, which rode up her ass, her jutting tits pressing against the T-shirt she wore.
“Here you go, Ice. Need anything else?”
“No. Thanks, Rita.” Ice ignored the disappointment that flashed across her face as he took the tequila and downed the large shot.
Max cleared his throat. “Ice…? Brother, are you doing okay?”
Ice turned to look at his brother’s face in surprise at the concern he heard. “Yeah, why you asking?”
“You haven’t... I don’t want to be all-personal and shit, but you haven’t been hitting the pussy like you usually do. The others and me hit it so hard when we got released the bitches couldn’t walk straight for a week. But since you got released... Well, you haven’t taken the load off.”
Ice picked his beer up, taking a drink before confiding to his longtime friend, “Haven’t wanted any club pussy. The pussy I’m wanting is three hours away.” He waited for the laughter to come; instead, Max stared back in relief.
“Cool. I wanted to make sure that shit at the prison didn’t mess up your mind. You know?”
Ice did know. His face hardened. He had a plan to settle that score, one everyone involved would never forget.
“No, brother, I’m cool. Did you do what I told you to do?”
Max gave him a malicious grin. “Yeah. I did exactly what you told me to. That was a piece of genius, brother.”
Ice took the compliment. It was the first step toward taking his revenge.
He sat back in his chair, watching Crush throw off her T-shirt as she stripped. It was going to be a long week until he saw Grace again.
Chapter 16
Ice drove into the parking lot of the Jiffy Grill, parking in the empty space next to Grace’s car. The whole parking lot was deserted.
He was soaking wet from driving through the cold rain to get here. Now he was sure she was going to tell him it was a wasted effort.
“Why’s it closed?” he asked as soon as she got out of the car.
“The owner had a death in the family,” Grace answered, standing in the drizzling rain.
“Get back in your car; you’re getting wet,” Ice ordered, despite enjoying the sight of her thin blouse becoming damp and clinging to her breasts. Ice could see the imprints of her nipples through her bra.
Grace nodded yet didn’t get back in the car. “We could go to my house, and I could fix us something to eat.”
Ice didn’t want to let her see how much he liked that idea, not wanting to put her on guard.
“Sounds good. I’ll follow you.”
Grace got back in her car, and Ice followed her to her house, not that he needed to; he knew exactly where she lived. It was a ten-minute drive to her house in a quiet cul-de-sac.
They ran through the rain, which had begun to fall heavier. Then he waited patiently as she unlocked her front door and keyed in her security code. A small, brown dot of a dog came barreling around a corner, slamming into the wall by the door.
“Are you ever going to learn, Bear?” Grace scolded the tiny dog that was shaking his tail until he spotted Ice. Then his whole attitude changed, snarling and emitting a low growl. “Behave,” Grace ordered, picking the little shit up.
Ice saw a large, black shadow with eyes coming from the same direction the dog she was now gripping firmly had come from. If Ice had his gun on him, he would have shot the thing as it walked lazily into the room. Grace saw where he was looking.
“That’s Daisy.”
“What is it?” Ice asked.
“It’s a giant schnauzer.”
“It’s a dog?” Ice had to make sure. He didn’t know they made dogs that fucking big. If it stood on its hind legs, it would be taller than Max.
“Yes, it’s a dog. Let me grab you a towel.” She disappeared, still holding the smaller dog, returning after a brief second with a large towel. “Get dried off. I’ll be right back.” Grace disappeared again.
The larger dog sat down on its ass, watching him balefully. Ignoring the thing, he surveyed her home.
It was spotlessly clean with flowers everywhere, from the print on the couch to the pillows on her side chair. She even had fresh-cut ones in a delicate vase, which sat on the large coffee table. She had brought a garden inside her home.