AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With guns drawn and aimed toward her, she seems oblivious to being surrounded. I'll be damned if this little piece gets to walk away from a stunt like this unscathed. That's why we keep Magda’s daughter around. Like her mother, she is a Club Mother in our chapter, not a club girl. Her father would kick our asses if we allowed his little girl to be disrespected. She’s a club princess and is treated as such, she just takes on the duties of a club mother and deals with the club women and whores, so I don’t have to. She also handles bitches that cross us. Teaching them lessons they will not soon forget.
I bellow out, “ENOUGH.”
Five
GUNNER
?
My anger is palpable as I take in the scene. I watch as the woman raises her head and searches the crowd for the voice that has thwarted her plan of ripping my son a new one. When her eyes connect with mine, she freezes. A slight smirk slips onto her lips when she looks around and realizes she’s surrounded by some of the meanest motherfuckers in Southern Maine. Yet again, she doesn’t react like I’d thought she should. She doesn’t look afraid or even concerned. Her eyes never leave mine, and then she smiles. She fucking full-on teeth-baring smiles as if this is the happiest damn moment of her life. And that’s when I realized this chick is crazy. Because no sane bitch would smile like she’s won the damn lotto, that shit isn’t normal.
“Well, shit,” she says. Her head shakes, and her smile gets wider while amusement shines in her eyes.
“What in the actual fuck is going on here?”
My voice comes out hard as I stare at her. Not willing to let her crazy deter me from finding out who she is and why the fuck she thinks it’s a good idea to come to my club and pull some bullshit like this.
When surrounded by my club brothers and me, most men would tuck tail and run. Oh no, not this girl. She stares at me with amusement and a glint of curiosity. The only other reaction is pushing her gun into Bull's head further. He jerks away slightly and winces when the knife she’s holding to his neck nicks him. My eyes narrow, and my anger nearly boils into a deadly rage when I see the trail of crimson slide down his neck.
A few growls and curses are directed at her, which she ignores while watching me. I sigh, knowing that if I don’t handle the situation soon, shit can get nasty. Closing my eyes and taking a breath, I calm myself. I look around at my brother, letting them know I will handle this. I’m not the kind of man who would put a bullet into a woman’s head without cause. But if this chick doesn’t chill the fuck out, she may be the first.
She remains unaffected by her surroundings and the threats being made toward her. She shifts her stance, which has my focus returning to her. Her head tilts to the side, and she watches my reaction to her with curiosity. Her eyes take me in from head to toe, and her smile gets wider. A few brothers murmur at how they think this chick is crazy, among other shit.
As I stare her down and note her soulful eyes, something about them has the anger in me washing away. Instead, my brow furrows because I’ve never met a woman so utterly unaffected when put in a dangerous situation as she’s now in. Well, no one since…
No, that can’t be right.
Continue to take her in, and the protectiveness I felt before comes back with ferocity. I want to yell at her and ask her why the fuck she put herself in this situation, and I also want to protect her from what's to come because of her choices. I don’t understand these conflicting feelings.
Watching her watch me, I can say she’s a beautiful young woman. I can appreciate her beauty, but the familiarity hits me deep in my gut, which has me seeing her in a way I would one of my club brother's kids. And I can’t help but wonder why that is.
Out of nowhere, and I mean no-fucking-where, an SUV comes barreling into the lot, skidding to a stop, narrowly missing a few brothers and club girls as they scatter out of the way. Which pulls my attention from crazy. The vehicle does nothing but idle. My brother's attention is divided between crazy and whoever just drove into my compound like they are looking to catch some bullets.
We keep the gates open during open club nights. It doesn't happen often, but we like to let the townspeople in to show them that even though we’re a one-percenter club, we’re good guys and good for the city. Some don't like us no matter what we do, but we try. Mostly, the townspeople and the cops leave us be. Other than nights like this, our prospects secure and man the gates, and right now, I think Brick, the Prez of the Sacramento chapter, was on to something when he made the rule about his gates being left open. He doesn’t allow them to remain open for any reason, even on open club nights. He says it keeps the riff-raff out and allows more control of the comings and goings of visitors and outsiders. I’m inclined to agree with him after this shit.
The SUV sits idle, and then after a few beats, the doors open, and two big motherfuckers and a chick step out. The sight takes me aback. I scan the trio. They are all outfitted in tactical gear, looking ready for shit to go sideways at any moment. My eyes narrow, and my body stiffens at the implication. A few club brothers shift and aim toward the intruding trio. The newcomers look around and realize the gravity of the situation, but even at gunpoint, they don't seem to give a shit. Nor do they show any signs of being concerned for their safety.
Who in the fuck are these people?
The three newcomers focus on the girl holding my son at gunpoint and ignore everyone around them. Finally, the one who stepped out of the driver's side speaks.
“What the fuck, Bellamy? You said you were going to play nice. This… doesn't look like playing nice, Rocket?” The driver looks to the passenger for an answer, which I assume is rhetorical. “... Does this look like little Bell is playing nice to you?” The driver of the SUV has his hand on his piece attached to a leg holster as he takes slow and even strides toward the girl. My eyes narrow on him. He seems outwardly relaxed, but his hand never releases his grip from his weapon, which tells me the relaxed posture is a facade. The one he called Rocket has a… my eyes widen when I see what he has cradled in his arms.
What the actual fuck?
“Nope, brother… It does not look like little Belly Bell is playing nice. Not one bit.” he says, sending a wink in Bell’s direction.
For fuck's sake.
“Is that a fucking rocket launcher? That…is a fucking rocket launcher. Prez. You see this shit?” My VP’s voice holds a hint of amusement in its tone.
Taz and I watch on as the one called Rocket pets the rocket launcher like it's not a damn inanimate object. And I'm flabbergasted. Yeah, a big bad biker, Prez is fucking flabbergasted. This situation is one for the books. This shit is outlandish even for me, and I’ve seen and done some crazy shit. I shake my head watching this… whatever it is going down.
Fucking hell.
My attention goes back to Bellamy, who, at some point, thought this was the funniest shit in the world. Her gun at my son's head is now on her hip. Bellamy is now doubled over, laughing her ass off, still with the knife near Bull's throat, but resting between his shoulder and neck. She is aware enough of her weapon placement to know that her jostling could end up with her accidentally slitting my son's throat.
“Bitch, you are fucking crazy?” Bull stands, shoving the hand holding the knife away from his neck.
