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But I refused to be intimidated by his empty threats. “Hit a nerve?” I taunted, unable to resist the opportunity to get under his skin. “I bet that was the first time you ever lost something, wasn’t it?” I pressed on, my voice dripping with scorn. “Your whole life, you grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth, never wanting for anything. And then Lauren leaves you because she saw what a fucking walking dick you are.”
A flicker of rage flashed in Boone’s eyes, but I didn’t back down. “We’ve got a lot of differences, Boone,” I continued, my voice rising with conviction. “But the biggest one is that since I came from nothing and now I have something, I will do absolutely anything to make sure I keep what I have. My club. My woman.” I reached out, patting Boone’s chest mockingly. “Don’t fuck with the man who worked for what he has. He’ll never give it up. Not without one hell of a fight.”
As the weight of my words hung in the air, a tense silence descended upon the room, the palpable tension crackling between Boone and me like electricity. But I stood my ground, refusing to back down from the confrontation. If Boone thought he could intimidate me into submission, he had another thing coming. I was Yarder McCrane, President of the Iron Fiends MC, and I wouldn’t let anyone threaten what I had fought so hard to build.
“Call off whatever goons you have and find someone else to pick on,” I advised. I hitched my chin to the guys and stepped back from Boone.
It was time to go.
Dice, Fade, Compass, and Stretch moved behind me.
Boone’s expression remained unreadable as he considered my words. “And what if I don’t back down?” he challenged, his tone laced with arrogance. “I’m a powerful man.”
I met his gaze without flinching, the weight of my resolve tangible in every word. “Not as powerful as the IFMC,” I retorted, a steely edge to my voice. “Don’t fuck with my club or my woman. You won’t like what happens next. See you around, Boone.”
With that, I turned on my heel, leading Dice, Fade, Compass, and Stretch out of the room.
“You better be careful of your next move, Yarder,” Boone called. “You might not like what I do next.” Boone’s parting words echoed behind us, but I paid them no mind. We had made our stance clear.
As we walked out of the mansion, a sense of determination settled over me. Boone may have thought he held all the cards, but he underestimated the strength and resilience of the Iron Fiends. We weren’t going to stand idly by while they attacked us; that much was certain.
Nope.
The Iron Fiends were fighters through and through. We didn’t back down from a challenge, and we sure as hell weren’t going to start now. Boone may have been a powerful man, but he had just crossed paths with a force to be reckoned with.
And we were ready to fight back, no matter what it took.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Poppy
The clubhouse was alive with laughter and chatter as we indulged in our newfound discovery of margaritas to-go.
“How did I not know that margaritas to-go were a thing?” Dove exclaimed between sips. “Why do we not get these every day?”
Sloane raised her glass triumphantly. “I need more,” she declared, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Give me more Rita!”
Olive, her speech slightly slurred, joined in from her spot on the floor as she crawled over to her. “Don’t move,” she cautioned Sloane. “I don’t want to get Rita in your hair.”
Throughout the jovial chaos, my mind fixated on one thing. “Where is the chocolate?” I interjected, my craving still unfulfilled.
“You ate it all,” Throttle informed me from the pool table, his tone amused. “I told you that ten minutes ago.”
It seemed the alcohol had dulled my memory. “Can you tell me that again when I ask?” I joked, earning a round of laughter from the others.
Cue Ball voiced his concern. “Yarder is going to murder us,” he grumbled. “Pretty sure getting his ol’ lady rip-roaring drunk while he was out was not the thing to do.”
But Sloane brushed off his worry with a cheerful tune. “Happy ol’ lady, happy life-dy,” she sang, earning a few chuckles.
“Life-dy?” Dove questioned, her curiosity piqued. “What the hee-haw is that?”
“I needed to rhyme, and I couldn’t rhyme, lady and wife,” Sloane explained with a shrug. “Life? I think I meant life. I’m the only wife around here.”
Aero, ever the voice of reason, called from the kitchen. “Let’s not do this again,” he urged. “We need to limit the number of ol’ ladies that get drunk at a time. Four is too many. Zero would be best.”
“Can you imagine when Pirate and Adalee get together?” Dove gushed. “The four amigos will turn to five!”
Throttle quickly shut down her fantasy. “They’re not getting together,” he asserted firmly.
