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I ignore his sarcasm. “But it seems you need a lesson in both of those.” He attempts to get out of my grip, so I push harder and turn my cigarette and push the lit end nearer to his face. “I swear on my fucking mother’s grave, that if you go near her, I will take you out into the desert and fucking burn you alive.” His head is forced back with how close the end of my burning cigarette is to his face. I stare between that and his eyes, and as much as he tries to show his bravado, I know he’s thinking twice, he doesn’t know me, he doesn’t know the lengths I’ll go to. “Do we have an agreement?”
“Chains!” Reaper shouts from across the compound. As I turn my head away from Mac, I see Pres walk up behind him. “Fucking let him go.”
“Fucking Church, NOW.” Pres shouts before storming off back the way he came. As I take my arm away and step back, Reaper makes his way over.
“What the fuck are you doing?”Reaper yells as he gets closer.
“I have my fucking reasons!” I flick the still-lit cigarette to the ground. “He needed reminding.” I know where my priorities lie, only right now, they’re split down the middle. I promised Luna I wouldn’t tell Pres what Mac did to her but on top of that, why did I have him pinned to the wall. With a frustrated sigh, I march away from Mac and Reaper in the direction of the compound door.
By the time I’ve reached the door, Pres has disappeared. I yank it open so hard it smashes off the wall and as I head inside it shuts itself behind me. There are some guys sitting around, playing cards, others are talking but I don’t stop, I march through the room and head down the hall to Church. Pres is sitting at the top of the table in his usual spot. The seat between us is always reserved for Reaper since he’s VP. I slouch in the chair, waiting for him to tear me a new one, I’m not pushing this. His eyes are on me, knowing he’s dying to read me the riot act.
He sighs heavily and arches an eyebrow. “What the fuck was that all about?”
“Just teaching him some manners, that’s all.”
“Manners?” Pres curls his top lip and frowns.
“Yeah, you know, pride. Honor. Respect. Just like I was taught.” My eyes lock with this. “I am his sergeant after all.”
“What is going on, Chains? What is it with you two, you’ve banged heads since the day you got out the joint. I don’t get it. Mac is a good addition to this club. So, you need to deal with whatever it is that’s bugging the shit out of you and either like it or fucking keep it to yourself.”
“What the fuck.” I yell. “You…” I go to point my finger his way, but rage consumes me as flashes of Luna hurt and crying on the floor, her shirt cut open and the marks on her skin, comes flooding back. My hands clench into a tight fist as Pres narrows his gaze at me. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him what the cunt did to his daughter. “You have no fucking idea. You know nothing about him. You don’t know why he came here; do you even know where he came from?”
“Man, Chains, you’ve never been the trusting type,” his head shakes, “but I think jail made you even more cynical.” We have a stare-off for a long minute. “He had some problems with his last club then went rogue. He stopped by here to see if we needed any help. Funny enough, we were a man down. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to use him if we needed to. He became useful, thought it would be better to keep him around. Now, why don’t you tell me what your problem is.”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t.” He asks, incredulous.
I glance away, thinking to myself if I can say something without actually mentioning her name, but in reality, I can’t. She’ll kick my fucking ass. Even if it is her dad, and as much as she doesn’t think so, he loves her. I even my breathing and slow it down. “I don’t trust him.”
“This is what I’m saying, Chains. You’ve got issues and you need to work on them.”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at Luna, I don’t like it.”
He snaps his head my way and stares, a scowl appears between his eyes, if his eyes could turn red they would in a heartbeat. “Now we’re getting somewhere. What’s wrong, jealous it’s not you?”
“Okay, you want this out on the table,” I bang my fist down, “then you tell me what your fucking problem is?” I urge. Blood pumps through my body ready to throw down.
Tension stiffens his shoulders as he prowls toward me. “Careful, Chains. I’m still the President of this club. Your Pres. You talk about respect. I’m still the guy that saved you from a shitty life. I’m also the guy that stopped you from wasting your fucking life away on drugs.”His face twists with rage but I don’t back down. I have shit to say and I’m going to fucking say it.
“And I’m the guy that loved your daughter.” I fire back, “She saved me. If she hadn’t been made to go off to college, the drugs wouldn’t have happened. I took drugs to stop the hurting. The hurting that you fucking caused when you made me walk away from her. That made me break all those promises I made her about being there for her, protecting her. It was you Pres. You caused that shit.” I’ve been pushed around, beat up and ridiculed. Not anymore. I stand firm, squaring my shoulders and push out my chest as I stare at him. He stands slightly taller than me, so he has one advantage.
The creak of the door alerts us to someone walking in behind us but I don’t look to see who it is, I’m too wound up and won’t be seen as weak. It’s then I hear Reaper’s voice. “Chains, step away. Don’t fucking do this.”
“Fuck that, this has been coming for a long time.”I grind out.
He tugs on my arm but I shrug him off.
“Leave us, Reap,” Pres pipes up as he shakes his head.
“Pres!” Reaper argues.
“I said leave us.” He snaps, his tone harsher than I’ve ever heard it directed at his VP. I still don’t know what the story is between those two, all I know is that he has a special bond with him. It’s why he made him VP in the first place.
“Fuck.” Reap curses as the door slams, then me and Pres go almost nose to nose again. He uses the interruption to push me back and pin me against the wall, his fists clutching my cut.
“Get your fucking hands off me.” I say through gritted teeth. After a moment of glaring at one another, Pres steps back. I’ll take that because Pres never backs down. I brush my hands down my cut, tugging it back into place as Pres shoves his fingers in his hair, and turns away from me.
