Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
I heard shuffling behind us, and moved to the side, still holding my daughter. Stripes walked through the small crowd that had formed. Apparently this fight had been more entertaining than the one still happening in the ring. Boise joined Stripes as well, but he kept quiet.
“What the ever-loving fuck is happening out here?” Stripes was pissed. His chilly gaze swept over everyone. “You want to fucking fight? You do it in the ring. That’s it. There’s no violence outside of the ring. You got it?” He frowned as his gaze swept over Maddy before ending on Max.
He took in the guy still on the ground, blood pouring from him. A wheezing sounded from him. He was having a hard time breathing. Stripes cursed under his breath, motioning to one of the bikers. “Call Prez. See if he could bring Kalista with him.”
The biker nodded, moving away, already on his phone.
One of the Roussou guys said, “He needs an ambulance.”
Stripes turned to him, and he went eerily still before he clipped out, “No ambulances. No cops.”
“But…” The guy flung an arm out, pointing at his friend. “He can’t breathe.”
“Which is why we got a nurse coming here,” Stripes barked back. “Stand the fuck down unless you’re going to give me a nicely detailed description of what exactly happened here.” He waited, his head cocked to the side.
I was struggling. The offended person was my daughter, but this was an illegal fighting ring, and it was run by a one-percenter motorcycle club. We didn’t start shit, but we finished it. That old dynamic was strong inside of me, yearning to come out.
Closing my eyes, I reached inside for some iron discipline, the same will that had helped me remain competitive as a professional athlete over the last few decades. There it was. It had slipped low, but I began pulling it up. Enough of it so it coated my insides. Once it was locked in place, nice and suppressed, I cleared my throat.
Stripes turned my way.
I was about to speak when one of the elitist dicks burst out, “That fucking dick touched her.” He nodded to the guy on the ground and then indicated Maddy. “He cupped her pussy—”
He stopped abruptly, and everyone’s eyes came to me and Logan.
It took a second to realize what was happening. We sounded like animals, my rage transformed into sound. The old discipline slipped back down. I was going to murder the kid.
“Who the fuck is that kid?” I began stalking him.
Then Maddy was in front of me, stopping me.
I blinked, coming back to myself. She wasn’t the only one who had moved between us. Stripes was blocking me. Nate and Matteo had moved closer.
“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do,” Stripes clipped out, his jaw clenched. “I don’t give a shit what happened, not really. The girl looks like she’ll survive. But the girl’s big, bad father and uncle are here, and it looks like her honor has been defended so it’s a fucking moot point now. If any more justice is to be handed out, do it away from here. We got a family nurse coming in, along with our charter president, so if you all don’t want to deal with him, a bigger and badder asshole than me, I’d suggest you get the fuck out of here.” No one moved. He barked, “Now!”
Two of the bikers snapped their fingers to the Roussou guys, who went to pick up their friend. They carried him out, following the bikers to another building off to the side.
The two punks took off. One gave Maddy a look as he went, but I didn’t let myself decipher it. If I had, I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t go after him, rules and bikers be damned. They’d brought her here. They’d exposed her to this world.
Fuck.
“What do you want?” Logan’s voice was icy and lethal. His question wasn’t for me.
Stripes moved toward us. He ignored my brother, his eyes on Maddy. “Are you okay?”
She drew in a deep breath before she nodded. “I’m fine.” Her words were hoarse.
“You don’t sound it.”
She drew in another breath, stopping her body from shaking and stepped away from me. “I’m fine. Really.” Her eyes moved over his shoulder, trained on where Channing and Max were approaching.
Stripes and Channing shared a look before he moved his attention to Max.
“Stop fucking looking at my kid, Ryerson,” Channing snapped.
The hint of a grin showed on Stripes’s face before he coughed, clearing it away. He lifted his chin toward Max. “With the beatdown I heard you delivered to that kid, I’d say you could pick up a match any day in my ring—”
“Like fuck.” Channing stepped forward.
Stripes flicked a cool look at Channing as he said, ignoring him and speaking to Max, “But I know your aunt. I’ve got a hunch I’d wake up one morning with a knife in my gut. Tell Miss Bren that her nephew and all his friends are banned from this establishment. And she’s welcome. No need to call.”