When he moved in front of the bikes, blocking more of the light, I got my first good look at him. Oh, yeah, I remembered him. He went by Griller. Prick had nearly put me in the hospital after I stepped in trying to protect my mom when he got too rough with her. I couldn’t believe it when she brought him home in the first place. He was an enforcer for the Lycaon Wolves MC, from a city over two hours away, and had the patch to prove it. Definitely, a club you did not want to cross. Mom knew not to mess with them, had even admitted to me that she’d heard one of them raped and killed a woman the same night she brought Griller to our house. And now, the asshole was back.
Inhaling deeply, I grimaced at the scent of wolves on both men, somewhat covered by their own outer stench. Two wolves against a cat. That seemed fair. Glaring at them, I gathered my courage and bared my fangs. I wasn’t just any cat.
Bring it on, motherfuckers.
They started walking toward the stairs, one sneering at me, the other grinning menacingly.
“Little bastard’s a fuckin’ pussy,” Griller snarled, slamming the bat hard against his palm again. When the other man laughed, Griller shook his head, glancing over at him, “Naw, Rake. I mean it. Take a whiff. He’s a cat.”
A low growl ripped from the other man’s throat, and he moved as if to jump at me. Just as he did, an old Plymouth fishtailed into the driveway, coming to a stop near the bikes. It clipped one of them, sending it crashing over into the other, and they both landed on the ground. Mom was home.
“Griffin! Get back in the house!” she cried, the second she jumped from the car. “Go! Now!”
Georgia flew at the men, a can of mace in one hand, wielding her car keys in the other like a weapon. She managed to get Griller in the eyes with the spray as she raked her keys across the face of the wolf, but the tables quickly turned. Rake grabbed her arms, holding them behind her back, as Griller snarled, wiping at his eyes. “You bitch! You jacked up my bike!” Spitting on the ground, he reared back with the bat, and then slammed it into her stomach. Laughing, he growled, “How do you like me now, you whore?” Cocking a fist back, he slammed it into her mouth, sending her head snapping back and blood flowing down her chin. Laughing, he struck her again, more blood flying.
My body shook with rage, and I lost it when she screamed loudly in pain. Yanking the Glock from the back of my jeans, I jumped down the stairs, clearing all five in one leap. “Get the fuck away from her!” When they just laughed, ignoring me, I pointed the gun in the air and fired before quickly bringing it back down to level on Griller. “I told you, to fucking stop,” I growled, my chest rumbling in fury as I bared my fangs at him.
“What, you want to play, pussy cat?” Grinning, Griller turned to face me fully, the hand that was now coated with my mother’s blood holding the barrel of the bat as he took a step toward me.
Before I could reply, the other asshole wrapped the chain he was holding around my mother’s neck and began to squeeze, choking her. I didn’t stop to think. Letting out a roar, I pulled the trigger, hitting Griller just inches from his heart. The bastard looked down, eyes wide with shock, before his gaze slowly rose to meet mine. “You little shit,” he growled, a hand going to his chest as he swayed slightly on his feet. Raising the gun, I shot the bastard right between the eyes, watching unemotionally as he fell to the ground.
“What the fuck?”
The chain flew at me from out of nowhere, catching me in the side of the head and sending me to the ground. It hurt like a bitch, but I knew I couldn’t stay down long. I had to get up and fight, or I wasn’t going to make it through the night. I held tightly to the gun, knowing it was my only hope, as I struggled to get back to my feet. Rake was on me before I could, pounding me in the face with the chain wrapped around his fist. I lost hold of the Glock as I tried to get free, unable to get out from under the big bastard. Blood poured down my face and into my throat, excruciating pain like I’d never felt before swamping me, but I continued to struggle. The son of a bitch fought dirty. I’d known that going in, but this was a whole new level of crazy, one I didn’t think I was going to survive.
I tried to call to my cat, tried to shift, but it was too late. The hits were coming too fast, too hard. I couldn’t concentrate, could hardly see. There was so much pain.
Suddenly, there was a loud crack, and the man above me stiffened, before falling to the side. I looked through swollen eyes to see my mother standing over him, the wooden bat in her hands, swaying on her feet. When she collapsed to the ground, the bat landing beside her, I pushed myself into a sitting position. Breathing heavily, I swiped at the blood coating my face, trying to clear my eyes. My head was pounding, my ears ringing. Bile rose in my throat, but I ruthlessly shoved
