Hell, we had a man strapped to a table in a house an hour from here because I’d presumed he was a good guy. Jury was still out on Tag, and I prayed the research came back proving me and Kaden right.
“Why you so interested in her anyway. You can’t get your own pussy?” Griller asked. I’d never wanted to punch someone in the face so badly before, the smirk twisting his mouth like a red cape to a bull.
“I know you’re holdin’ her against her will,” I spat, taking a daring step closer. “And I know you hurt her.”
“So?”
“It’s a fuckin’ coward who puts his hands on a woman.” The warmth of my rage flowed through me with every word I spoke.
“No, it’s a real man who takes what he wants from all these whores, even when they don’t want it. In fact, I’m gonna take it from her over and over again.”
“Then I’m gonna have a go,” the Reaper with the burn scar said.
“Then me,” Rock chimed in. Unfortunately, I’d seen that guy way too many times in my life. The sight of him alone made me want to knock him the fuck out.
I glanced toward the prospect, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there and stared at me, almost as if he was too busy studying me to add his response.
“Then when we’re done with her tonight, I’m passin’ her off to one of our guys who gets off on cuttin’ up bitches. He calls it art and shit.” Griller smiled, pleased with himself when he saw my eyes pop wide. “That’s right. We’re gonna get our fill tonight because there won’t be anythin’ left of her once my guy gets his hands on her.”
Right before my fist connected with his face, I saw the prospect’s mouth drop open before turning to look at his president, and even though I only saw his expression for a millisecond, it was enough to tell me he was as shocked as I was with who they were gonna pass the poor girl off to.
There was an explosion of fists flying all around, the narrow hallway where we fought barely wide enough for the seven of us to go at each other. The limited space didn’t do anything but propel us from one guy to the other.
Then I saw a blur of dark hair to my left from the girl in question. She’d walked out of the ladies’ room and right into the middle of the fight between our clubs.
Ace threw a wicked uppercut at the prospect, hitting him on the jaw, and while he staggered backward and hit the wall, he didn’t fall. Instead, he grabbed the girl and held her in front of him like a shield, an action which only served to intensify my anger.
He moved her slightly to the side before he came at me. Swinging his arm back, he pushed her forward, and in the span of a fleeting moment, I heard him say, “Take her.” I was so confused by what he said that I hadn’t been paying attention, and it was during my lack of focus that he managed to strike me in the face, although his hit wasn’t as hard as I was sure he could manage.
The prospect went back after Ace, and while they threw down, Jagger had pinned Scarface on the ground, continuously striking him until he stopped moving. I had no idea if he’d killed him, but before I could even think to ask, Jagger shot to his feet, reached behind his back, and pulled a gun from his waistband, pointing it directly at Rock. I craned my neck and saw the handle of a pistol showing from underneath the Reaper’s shirt. As Jagger reached for the man’s weapon, I tucked the girl behind me, shielding her from the turmoil going on around us as best I could.
Then I heard a shot.
Then another, followed by an eruption of screams from the crowd. Behind us, throngs of people rushed toward the exit, and it was because of the commotion I barely had time to register the flash of heat that whizzed by the side of my head. Seconds later, Jagger pointed both guns at the Reapers, who were still standing. “Go for it, and it’ll be the last thing you do,” Jagger shouted. The three of us walked backward with the girl directly one step behind me.
My arm instinctually reached for her. I thought perhaps she’d either run toward the Reapers or in the other direction altogether, but when her hand slid into mine, I turned to face her.
The moment my eyes landed on hers, an ache pumped through my chest but was gone when she tugged on my arm, breaking me away from whatever feeling I’d lost myself in and thrusting me back into the direness of the situation.
Against the warning of our president, we’d engaged in yet another fight with the Reapers, resulting in someone getting two shots off. I still didn’t know if they fired or Jagger did, and on top of all the uncertainty, I’d taken the one person who’d started it all, even though she was innocent in blame. I accepted the fault wholeheartedly, but I doubted my acceptance would do any good once the rest of the club found out what happened here tonight.
11
I sat quietly next to Lincoln as he drove. When we first made it outside, his trainer asked if they were all okay. Once they acknowledged they were, everyone dispersed quickly, much like the rest of the people who’d showed up tonight to watch the fight. In the distance, I heard sirens, and they were getting closer as we rushed toward his truck. His friends sped off on their motorcycles, one of them almost hitting the side of a car who’d cut him off on the way out of the lot.
I had no idea what was
