Chapter 17
Prettyboy watched Esme spin around in a circle, her hands high above her head. Her long black hair fanned out around her like a halo as she giggled and swayed to the music. The party was still hopping, still loud and proud, so Prettyboy suggested they rejoin their friends and have a good time. Take the edge off, relax a little.
At first she’d insisted on staying up on the roof, cuddled up in his arms, which he had absolutely no objection to-but he did want to show her off.
He wanted everyone to know his claim still stood, that she was his, that even if it took forever he was willing to put in the time and effort.
Rayna came towards Esme then, her blonde hair tied up on top of her head as she shimmied, her bright eyes happy.
“Looks like your path took a different turn, brother.”
Prettyboy turned to greet Fury, who slammed a meaty palm against his shoulder.
“Yeah. I guess it did.”
Fury was grinning like a mad man as he motioned towards Prettyboy’s face.
“I think you’re missing something.”
Prettyboy returned Fury’s grin, his own happiness surfacing as he watched the woman of his dreams dance with Rayna Claire.
“Turns out Esme doesn't mind my face,” He said lamely.
Fury laughed as he shook his head.
“Man, nobody here does! You’re the only one who cares.”
A familiar blonde head was weaving trough the crowd, headed directly for them. The sight of Tasha always set him on edge, but this time it was different- this time Esme was here and he'd only just convinced her to give him a shot…
What if she says something to change Esme’s mind?
“Fuck, looks like the tagalongs are here,” Fury swore.
Prettyboy nodded, but he didn't take his eyes off of Esme.
She was having such a good time, too.
Maybe Tasha wouldn't start anything-
“Oh, looky! The beast took off his mask,” She sneered.
And, here we go.
Her comment caught Rayna’s attention instantly, but Esme was still looking between the two of them confused.
“Go away, Tasha.”
Rayna’s voice was clear as crystal when she demanded that Tasha leave.
Esme followed Rayna towards him and Fury, who were standing side by side.
“What? Like I’m the only one who noticed? Shit, I thought he'd finally taken pity on all of us by wearing that stupid bandana.”
Esme’s mouth fell open at that, her blue eyes meeting his.
There were a lot of people still dancing and partying on the lot around them, so their argument was quickly swallowed by the noise.
“What did I tell you before, bitch?”
Rayna was pulling up her sleeves as she eyed Tasha with a fierce glare, all of her hatred for her overshadowing anything else.
Fury’s grin was back when he saw his woman getting ready to pound on Tasha- a sight that all Seven Deadlies Members loved- but Prettyboy wasn't worried about Rayna.
He was too busy watching Esme.
She looked at him, obviously shocked, before she looked back at Rayna.
“What’s going on?”
“Bitch doesn't know her place and since Ox won’t let me kill her, I’m gonna have to remind her!,” Rayna spat.
Esme’s blue eyes narrowed then.
Tasha scoffed in Esme’s direction.
“What the fuck are you looking at, basket case? You ain’t shit around here, either. Figures you two would shack up, you’re both fucking pathetic,” She said.
Her tone was filled with malice and hatred, all of which confused the fuck out of Prettyboy; what did I do to her to make her hate me so much?
But, Esme surprised all of them when she straightened.
“I’m sorry, what was your name?”
Prettyboy’s gaze never left her, not even when she started to remove her jacket.
“What the hell does my name have to do with anything?”
Esme started to laugh, and the scene reminded Prettyboy all too much of Rayna Claire and how she’d almost killed Tasha the first night they met- also because she’d been saying cruel things about his scars.
Rayna and Fury were watching Esme too, Prettyboy noticed; the only one who didn't seem to realize she was in deep shit was Tasha.
Again.
“See, I don't know if you know this, but I came here from Axel’s club.”
Esme had her jacket off now, and she held it casually out to Rayna.
“So?”
Tasha seemed to be worried when Esme stepped around Rayna, who was now clutching Esme’s jacket to her chest.
Tasha took a step backwards, but Esme motioned towards the big man himself who seemed to understand that shit was about to go down. Prettyboy had never seen this side of Esme. To be fair, they’d never been put in a situation for him to see this side of her, but the way she was tying her hair back into a pony tail had his dick hardening in his tight jeans.
Axel arrived just as Esme finished tying her hair up.
His dark eyes landed on her, and for a second Prettyboy wanted to bash his face in for touching his woman, but when Axel sent him a nod, he knew then and there that he was a far better man than Prettyboy gave him credit for.
He’d stepped aside so the vibrant, gorgeous woman moving towards Tasha could be his.
So they could be happy.
“Axel comes to this lot frequently, Tasha, and he comes here to do what?”
“He’s always fightin’ with Fury,” Tasha said with an eye-roll.
Esme flicked an index finger in her direction as she nodded.
“Exactly. He also happens to be my trainer, Tasha. I don’t want to hurt you, because its not in my nature to start a confrontation. And, it sounds like you’ve already gotten your ass handed to you by my friend Rayna, here. So I’ll give you two options: apologize to my man for saying what you said, or I’m gonna bash your fucking face in and then I’ll make you apologize.”
Tasha’s eyes widened as Esme clasped her hands in front of her.
“Fury! She can’t come here and do this! Tell her she’s gotta go,” Tasha demanded, her pale cheeks flushed with red.
Fury started to laugh, and then so did Rayna; Prettyboy found himself chuckling right alongside them.
She’s so perfect.
Axel cleared his throat, but his laughter was loud enough to make Esme smile wide as she wiggled her eyebrows in Tasha’s direction.
“You won’t lay a hand on me!”
Esme clapped her hand together once.
“Oh, I won’t? See, I know how this works, baby. Been around the block a few times. If you think I’m gonna let you walk all over me, or Prettyboy, then you're out of your fuckin’ head. So, what’s it gonna be?”
Tasha glanced at Prettyboy before she muttered, “Sorry.”
Esme glanced at Prettyboy, her blue eyes questioning.
Is that good enough? They seemed to ask.
Prettyboy nodded.
Tasha looked like she was going to let it go, turned like she was going to leave, but everyone heard her mumble under her breath, “Stupid cunt.”
Esme’s back straightened two seconds before she had Tasha’s blonde hair wrapped around her fist and Tasha’s face flying directly into one of her raised knees.
Tasha cried out, but Esme wasn't done.
Tasha’s nose was gushing blood as Esme forced her to her knees in front of Prettyboy.
“Look at him! Tell him you're sorry again, and this time, you better fucking mean it. Ox may tell Rayna she can’t kill you, but Axel’s my president baby, and he’ll let me do whatever the fuck I want.”
Tasha was practically choking on her own tears; Rayna’s mouth was open so wide she was bound to catch flies, Fury and Axel were watching with amused expressions on their faces.
Prettyboy doubted Esme would actually kill Tasha, but he had to admit it was good to see the mouthy bitch on her knees, again, because she'd run her mouth about him.
But this time, Esme was calling him hers.
This time his woman was demanding the apology.
“I’m sorry, really! I won’t ever say anything about your scars again,” Tasha screamed.
Esme threw her forward, causing Tasha to catch herself before she face planted.
“Get up and go get yourself cleaned up. Steer clear of Prettyboy. Tell your whore friends to do the same, or I’ll show you my floor work next.”
Tasha’s eyes were wide with fear as she glanced between Esme and Rayna, who were now standing side by side.
Esme had blood dripping down one of her bare knees and her face was flushed, but Prettyboy had never found her more beautiful.
When Tasha was gone, Esmeralda caught his eye. She smiled, a sexy smirk playing on her lips, as she sauntered towards him.
Her small hands eased up around his neck and buried themselves in his hair.
“Don’t listen to her, baby. She doesn't know a good man when she sees one.”
Esme brushed some hair out of his eyes as she said this, still smiling.
Prettyboy’s scarred mouth lifted.
“And you do?”
She smiled, her mouth grazing his.
“Of course I do. I chose you, didn't I?’