Har examined his boots for a beat, then he went to the dresser and pulled out a bandana. He handed it to Brute. “Take her to the shed. Gag her once you get her there – or gag her now if you don’t think you can keep her quiet. The prospects are gonna have to watch her.”
“Why aren’t we just tossing her ass out?”
He sighed. “Believe me, I want to, but right now all I know for certain is that she’s responsible for the woman who threw a brick in my house meant for Stephanie—”
“How am I responsible?” Layla yelled.
“Your sister brought her here. I got a prospect telling me that shit. Right now I believe him over anything you got to say, but is that right or not?”
“Yes,” she snarled.
“You knew she threw that brick in my house two fuckin’ nights ago, and didn’t say shit about it. Can’t trust you to tell me the truth, but I have no doubt you knew she was up to that shit.”
She looked at her feet. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.
“You’re a sorry excuse is more like it,” Brute said.
“It doesn’t mean I should be cuffed and left in the shed.”
“Yeah, it does. Otherwise, how will you or any other groupie learn their fuckin’ lessons?” Brute asked.
Har gave him a chin lift. Brute took hold of Layla’s bicep to shove her forward, but she didn’t move.
“I’m not goin’,” she shouted.
Brute’s face shifted to the most devious look I’d ever seen on him as he smiled. He shouted, “That’s right, because you’re comin’.”
He shoved the bandana into her mouth. I couldn’t stand to watch, and turned to the dresser. It bothered me because I didn’t like to see any woman brutalized, but also because I thought of Brute as family. Distant, but still family. I couldn’t believe he could do something like that. Plus, even though I didn’t like Layla, at all, I felt like, as women we should stick together, but I knew that wasn’t my place here.
The door closed and Har’s arms wrapped around me from behind. “Sorry, baby.”
I put a hand on his forearm. “I’m all right. I just didn’t think Sammy had that in him.”
His chin settled on my shoulder. “He’s Brute to you here, baby. Sorry to say it, but it’s the truth. And anybody does the brothers wrong, they get treated the same. Don’t think it’s him being brutal with a woman because she’s a woman. He’s being harsh with her because she fucked me over.”
I nodded. “I know. I get that, and that’s why I said I’m all right.”
He ran his nose along my jaw. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah,” I said, but before I could say more, the Instant Pot beeped. The roast was done.
He squeezed me. “I gotta take care of some shit, but I’ll be back soon.”
Har
HAR MEANDERED THROUGH the common room, not surprised to see many of the brothers had cleared out. Joules and Sandy were at the bar with Tiny and Gamble. A sweet-butt was a stool down from Gamble, entranced by her phone.
He leaned his arms onto the bar near Joules. “Massive and Wreck around?”
Sandy cackled. Joules glared at her a moment, then said, “No. Lingered at the church table until Cynic had to clear them out. They heard you took Layla to your room, and they left.”
“Thanks. You two stayin’ tonight?”
“No. Planning to head out, but I wanted to make sure Brute didn’t need help.”
Tiny caught his eyes. “Nothin’ quite like a fire to get everyone to leave, brother. I’m headed out when Brute comes back in, too.”
Har nodded while looking to Gamble. “You out too, man?”
He stroked his beard. “Should be, but the fuckin’ smell comin’ from your room has me damn curious. You takin’ a head count for security purposes or dinner purposes?”
He gave a quick chuckle. “Both. And, I’m not certain, but I suspect that roast will serve at least eight people, so you’re welcome to it, Gamble.”
Gamble gave him a chin lift. “Brute took Layla to the shed, right?”
Har watched the sweet-butt at the end of the bar, tipped his head to her, and asked Gamble, “You got plans with her?”
Gamble swung his head her way and scowled. “No.”
Tiny caught Har’s eyes and shook his head.
“Hey,” he called to her. “There a reason you’re still hanging around?”
She looked up from her phone and shrugged a shoulder. “Thought somebody would want a good time.”
He heard someone clomp into the room. “Riley, you can go. Not happenin’ tonight,” Brute said.
She pouted, but slid off her stool and left.
When Gamble caught his eyes again, Har said, “Yeah. He took her to the shed, and I’ll try askin’ her some more shit when we’re done eating dinner.”
Sandy put her beer bottle down hard. “Let me at her. I’ll get her talk.”
“That is the last thing we need,” Joules muttered.
“She might have a point,” Har said.
Joules gave him a questioning look.
Har shrugged. “A woman-to-woman chat might help.”
Joules dipped his chin. “That won’t happen. Those two are like oil and water. Always have been.” He lifted his chin at Brute. “Tiny and I stuck around in case you needed help, so are we good, Veep?”
Brute leaned on the bar next to Har. “What do you say, Prez? We good?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for stickin’ around.”
Once he turned around, Brute asked, “Where you headed?”
“I’m gonna see if she’ll talk to me one last time.”
“Not after you eat?”
He shook his head. “Changed my mind. It’ll bug the hell out of me while I’m eating otherwise.”
On his way to the back door, he saw Stephanie looking through drawers in the kitchen. “What are you lookin’ for, Miss Priss?”
She glared at him. “If I can only call you ‘Har’ when—”
“Nope.”
Her face fell. “Excuse me?”
“No. This isn’t like at the house. Gonna call you whatever I want as the mood strikes me. Now. What are you looking for?”
She pouted at him for a moment, then powered through. “I need a knife for cutting
