“Damn. Layla gave good head. Sucked my cock like a damn Shark vacuum,” Cotton whines, snatching the bottle from Rush and taking a big gulp.
“Shit, this going to take ages to clean up and repair.” Camo swipes his hands across his chest, looking around.
“I will look into contractors when we have assessed the damage,” Winger says, taking in his clubhouse.
I nod, and so do the others.
“I need to check on Delaney,” I state, and Pres nods.
“I’m coming too; I need to check on Skyla.”
We both leave our brothers and rush down the hall that leads to Winger’s office. The prospect who was instructed to protect our woman stands firm, a ball of fire in his hand ready to strike when needed.
At his feet there is a pile of bone and ash.
“You did good, prospect. Go see Pres for further instructions,” Camo instructs him, and with a nod, he leaves.
“He will earn his patch,” is all I say.
“Yes, he will.” He sighs. “Your woman has taken a shine to that prospect, so she will battle in his corner.”
I chuckle. Camo steps closer to the door and the need to see for myself that Delaney is okay is like a need to breathe. My body suddenly feels tight and my fists itch to hold her in my arms.
“If you have weapons do not shoot, it is just two very dashing men coming to claim their ladies.”
The door sings open before he can reach for the handle and there stands a freaked-out, wide-eyed looking Skyla. She moves but my gaze remains on my woman, who is looking just as freaked out as Skyla.
My brother and his woman leave us, my body itching to go to her; thankfully, she moves first, her body colliding with mine.
I hold her, breathing her in, thanking the Fated Gods that she is okay.
21
Delaney
My knees bounce as both Skyla and I sit in Winger’s office.
She paces back and forth and every now and then, she flinches.
No doubt she is feeling something through the bond with Camo.
I fucking hate not being able to sense what he is feeling.
He is still holding out on bonding with me, and it makes my heart hurt, not knowing why.
“Fuck, it is a blood bath out there,” Skyla mutters, biting her thumbnail, showing her nerves.
“I wouldn’t know,” I snap, then sigh. “Sorry.”
Sinking into the sofa roughly, showing my annoyance, I stare at the door. We are locked in Winger’s office, while the men fight whatever threat came through the clubhouse.
One minute we were talking, laughing, then an explosion filled the room. The noise was deafening, and the shock of itleft me frozen for a split second, until the screaming started. It’s terrifying, not knowing what’s happening or why.
My ears are still ringing from the blast, and my skin is covered in dust and some blood from the club girl who died next to me. It is a fucking miracle that the piece of pipe hit her and not me.
She was literally next to me, walking by.
Hearing Thorin bellow my name had my heart skipping a beat in my chest along with the sight of him. He was okay, disoriented but okay. In a flash, both Skyla and I were swept away into the office where we have been pacing back and forth for what feels like hours, even though I know it has been five minutes.
