“Don’t fucking move, Iwillshoot.” Ryan says, waving his gun around.
Fox catches my eye and I know what he’s trying to tell me. That something isn’t right. These guys, Hitchens, Norton and Ryan, they’re dumb, but not dumb enough to walk into an MC clubhouse spouting shit and pointing guns at women and children. Meaning Hitchens or Matthew Thompson ordered them to.
“What’s he got on you?” Chewy asks, sitting at the head of the table, brows pinched.
“Why the hell are you sitting there? I told you to get on the floor!” Ryan screams.
“Yeah, I didn’t want to. I don’t like the feeling of the wood floor,” Chewy answers seriously.
“She’s telling the truth. I’ve never even seen her wear socks on this floor,” Mira adds.
“I saw her feet once, they weren’t what I was expecting,” Ana pipes up with.
“Are they gnarly or something? Oh oh, does she have an extra toe?!” Nat asks.
“Her feet are fucking perfect!” Rhodie growls as everyone starts talking about their feet.
“Will you all shut the fuck up?” Norton screams, his gun hand twitching.
“Why? You’re not saying shit, kid. You came here to supposedly arrest me and all you’ve done is wave your gun around and whine,” Pops says, looking bored.
“He’s not wrong,” Mira adds helpfully.
Norton starts to fidget and I know that my family are pushing him right to the edge, just to fuck with him.
“What’s your play?” I growl out.
This is a family dinner. The dinner that Fox and I had planned to officially claim our woman and now these pencil dicks have come in and ruined it.
“With Hitchens in the wind, you’re calling your own shots now, aren’t you?” Fox says, staring Ryan down.
“Just give me Tombs,” Ryan says before his eyes dart toward Joy and Kit. “I’ll take Joy and the kid too. Hitchens wants them back.”
“Hitchens ain’t getting shit back,” Switch booms.
Ryan’s eyes start darting around the room, and I can see when it dawns on his face that he isn’t going to win this one. He thought he was the big man, but really he’s a little pissant that has become accustomed to bullying and intimidating people to get what he wants. That shit doesn’t fly at the DRMC. He starts to wildly look around for an exit, waving his gun around.
“When you get the chance, take him out,” Moss murmurs through clenched teeth.
I dip my chin slightly so he knows I got the message, my hand inching closer to where Fox placed his gun on the tabletop near me. Usually I’d use my own but it’s sitting snugly against the base of my spine and any movement in that direction will have Norton or Ryan going off.
The tension in the room starts to ratchet up when Chewy and Pops start running a play by play breakdown on what they’ve failed to do since bursting in on our dinner and I spot the moment Ryan’s about to lose it.
Snatching Fox’s gun up off the table I aim and fire, clipping him in his gun hand, winging him.
My brothers on that side of the table restrain him while the women somehow manage to wrestle Norton to the ground before he can get a round off.
“Who the fuck threw that knife?” Rider asks, staring at the steak knife sticking out of Norton’s gun hand.
“Elio! What have I told you about throwing knives?” Blanche growls in her mama bear voice.
His expression doesn’t change as he shrugs and then sits next to Chewy, ready for dinner.
“I thought I told you to take him out, Gardiner?” Moss raises a brow at me from his position further down the table.
“Oh, he’ll be taken out, but I figure it should be a family thing.”
“A family thing?”
