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I can’t hold it in anymore at how ridiculous this is. I chuckle because my best friend Gabriella would beg to differ regarding the brothers, never turning their back on their kids. Okay, that’s a lie. Because she didn’t tell Talon. But then again, what do you expect a girl to do in her situation? She walked in on him balls deep in a club hangaround. So she bounced. And then she became a bad bitch who saved the day and Talon’s ass.
I hear a growl, and my eyes narrow on Chase’s. He looks murderous. Oops, I did it again. Shit, I need to stay focused. He doesn’t like the chuckle I let slip or the amusement in my eyes. His eyes burn with fury, and he takes another damn step into my personal space.
Motherfucker, seriously?
I square my shoulders and put my hand on my hip. It may seem to some that I’m being saucy, but that isn't it. I need quick access to my knives and guns. I'm always carrying. Never know when you’ll need to defend yourself, and tools of the trade always come in handy. I don't want to kill him, but I'll maim the shit out of his ass if he puts his hands on me again. The first one was a freebie. I get his anger. I dropped a family bomb and was a little too snarky for my own damn good, so I get it. But the next one. I stare at him, conveying that he has about two point-five seconds to make the right decision. I shake my head when I see he is determined to continue on this path of assholery.
“Well, brother, there is only one way to find out,” I smirk and tilt my head to the side, glaring up at him in a challenge. Making it clear that he is not intimidating me in the least.
Can see it in his eyes that he's getting squirrelly. This asshole is going to do something stupid. And my ass can’t help but continue to push his buttons. I know that’ll go south, forcing me to lay his ass out. It’s not ideal, but a girl's gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, even if said girl hasn’t been playing nice. Quicker than the thought leaves me, he grabs me by my throat. Oh, see here. I’m about to fuck him up, brother or not. I said it. I warned him with my eyes. I warned him. For real, who raised this idiot? I’m a damn lady, damn it.
I hear gravel shuffling around me, but I don’t take my eyes off Chase’s. My breathing is steady and even as he applies pressure to my throat. I don’t flinch as we continue our stare-off. A slight smirk curves on my lips, and I wink at him. Probably not my brightest idea, but I’m fully committed to this now. His hand squeezes a little tighter, and the narrowing of his eyes lets me know that my big, bad biker brother means business. Somehow, a chuckle leaves my constricted throat, which has him letting out an angry growl while he pulls me closer to him. His eyes stare into mine with pure rage as we stand virtually nose to nose, and I balance on my tiptoes.
Why the fuck is he so damn mad? He’s the motherfucker who has his hand around my damn throat. Dick. But he done fucked up. He's about to find out just how much. My mother says I’m a smart ass that’ll meet her match one day. I can guarantee you that today is not that day. And Chase is not the one that’ll check me, boo.
Here we go.
I reverse this little display of his so-called strength by lifting my arms between his, using all my strength to slide my arms up and out. Bringing my body closer to his. Which, might I add, is entirely too damn close for our familial connection. Wrapping my arms above and around his, I spin to the left, grabbing one of his arms and then pinning his wrist to his back. I wrap my palm around my Glock, pulling it from my back holster, kicking him to his knees, and holding my Glock to his head. I release the arm I had pulled behind his back and simultaneously grab and put my blade to his throat. I speak before he can even say a word or anyone can react.
“See, I just came here for a few answers and to do a job. I didn't start this. Youdid…” Shoving the barrel further into his temple and taking a calming breath, I continue. Because, like I said, I do not want to hurt my brother, but I am not one to be manhandled, no matter how much my mouth runs. His big ass should have known better. “I wanted to find my sperm donor, Gunner Church, get to know him, and do the job I'm being asked to do,” I sigh.
Shifting slightly, looking around at the onlookers, making sure no one has decided to get froggy. “But no, big brother had to get all handsy and be a dick. Now, I know I should have stayed my ass in my hotel room, Netflix, and chilled. I wasn't in the stabby gun-to-the-dome maiming mood today. I promise you I wasn’t. It seems you brought that out of me, Chase.” I say, sounding bored, because honestly, after all of this bolstering and blustering, I kind of am.
Bored, that is.
I ponder my next move. I want to donkey punch his ass to teach him a lesson. It wouldn’t hurt him per se, but it would wreck his pride, knowing his slightly younger sister got one up on his ass. I’ll have a bruise on my arm and neck tomorrow from his unnecessary manhandling. So, a donkey punch is the least he deserves.
Honest to fuck, my reflexes at this point are getting twitchy because I'm pissed. My body is on autopilot. The boy best be glad I'm mindful enough not to slit his fucking throat. Well, damn it to you, survival instincts, you win this round. I sigh.
“ENOUGH!” Being bellowed has my head shooting up.
“Well... shit.”
Four
GUNNER
?
Life’s been good for my club and my family. I'm confident in the deal we've struck with the Bratva. As we’ve grown over the years, the risks we are taking are becoming too high. So, I’ve been looking to diversify how we earn our money. The club is far from struggling, and I want to keep it that way. The club-owning bars, nightclubs, stores, and gas stations have us breaking above even. We were living comfortably before our deal, and we will continue to just with a lot more padding in our coffers.
The thought of always looking over our shoulders worrying about the DEA, RICO, and the FBI was getting to be more of a risk than it was worth, with our last run turning into a colossal cluster fuck and nearly losing a brother. I knew it was time to make different moves. With the club growing and my men having families of their own, it was no longer worth the risk of being sent to CSP California State Prison. I heard the grumblings and knew many of the brothers felt, as I did, that running drugs and guns had become too damn risky. And when I brought my plan to the table, the club voted in my favor.
Being the mother chapter president, I’m responsible for more than just my brothers in my club, but all brothers and chapters below mine and a few support clubs. We are nationwide and branching out to Europe and Australia. And I take caring for, protecting, and providing for my family seriously.
At first, the Greeks weren’t sold on us handing over the reins of their operation to the Deviant Saints MC out of Fresno, but we got shit done. And if I’m honest, the Deviants are a bunch of crazy motherfuckers who love to run headfirst into bullshit. They are the yen to our yang and some crazy motherfuckers. I wouldn’t want to meet any of those crazy fucks in a dark alley. That’s what drew Kanakaris in. He realized how far they’d go to get shit done, like minds and all that shit. And because of that, I knew they’d have a perfect partnership.
It’s done. The transition is complete, and the reins have been passed on. Cross the Deviants Prez and Kanakaris, the Greek Boss, agreed to an arranged marriage to solidify their partnership. The arrangement turned into a doozy of a situation. I hear the problem wasn’t the girl. According to Kanakaris, she knew her place. It was with the brother Cross chose. Let’s just say he’s got a long road to recovery. Thank fuck, I didn’t have to sacrifice one of my men during that partnership. There was no way I would’ve done it willingly. I know what it’s like to have your choices taken from you, and I’d walk away from any deal that required something like that.
Keeping the focus on our newest legal venture, the security and protection firm for the rich, famous, and Bratva. Running security for the Bratva was a straightforward decision. They can securely move their merchandise from point A to point B while we’re at their backs, and we get paid a fuck ton for it. We don’t ask too many questions about what they run. We did, however, have a few stipulations, which would have been a deal breaker. No moving women, children, guns or drugs. And we were only muscle. We were not there for logistical reasons. We were there to protect, and because of how things were set up with the security firm the club now owns, plausible deniability was the name of the game.
Petrov, the Bratva Pakhan, was agreeable to those caveats in our contract. Anything else needing to be protected is fair game. That's what tonight's celebration is about as President of Lucifer's Saints MC Mother Chapter. I know deals like this are scarce and easy to lose. My club and I worked hard to get this contract ironed out, dotting every “i” and crossing every “t.”
Life is good. And the money is flowing.
Sitting at my usual table with my brothers, enjoying a cold beer and good company. One of the club girls is on my lap, working damn hard to be the pick me of the night. I chuckle. The young ones just don’t do it for me, but they are damn good to look at. I have particular tastes. And rarely do the unseasoned club girls know how to handle a man like me or my proclivities. Since letting my ol’ lady go to live her own stress-free life, which was bullshit if you ask me. She wanted to get back into the family. Guess enough time had passed, and she was done living as First Lady of the club, a spot she shouldn’t have had in the first damn place. All her years of demanding my time and trying to control me and my club didn't benefit her. At least not in the way she thought it would. She got away with shit once. But I made a promise that never-a-fucking-gain.
Early in our marriage, she realized that pulling the strings around here and trying to be a puppet master wouldn’t work. And she sure as shit didn’t like it, which is why her favorite pastime became starting shit to start shit. She was begging for a reaction, one she never got.
