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“She told the prospect that since I had her banned from the club, I could let her in. It’s not my fault she was banned.” I wave my hand toward Z who’s still seated behind his desk. “Why would I ever try to contradict the president? Especially for her.”
“I’ll go get Sway and tell him to handle it,” Z says.
As he passes me, I touch his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing for you to be sorry about, sweetheart. This has nothing to do with you. She broke the rules and she got banned. She shouldn’t be dragging you into it.”
My thoughts exactly.
Murphy steps into Z’s office and chuckles. “She’s giving Fiddle hell out there.” He gestures toward the line monitors displaying video of the front gate. “Asshole deserves it for being so dumb.”
“She ain’t gonna leave until one of us makes her,” Gray says to Murphy.
“More than happy to help. But you wanna wait for Sway and Z?”
“Sway’s…occupied.” Z returns pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. “No good ever comes from me going up to their room,” he mutters. “Why do I keep doing it?”
“You want to wait until Steer gets here?” Gray asks.
“Nah, she’ll cause a big scene and probably sneak through after him if she can.” Z jerks his head to the side. “Come on, let’s go.” His gaze lands on me. “You wanna watch?”
“Uh, don’t think less of me, but yeah, I kinda do.”
Z lets out an evil chuckle. “My kinda girl. Come on.”
Gray takes my hand. But he and Z move so fast, I have trouble keeping up and end up shaking myself free.
“You can’t be here, Tawny,” Z shouts as he approaches the gate. “Sway was supposed to have a talk with you.”
“He talked!” she shrieks. “This is bullshit and you know it, Z.”
“My orders are bullshit?” He takes a slow, sarcastic look around, finally looking down at the president patch on the front of his cut. “Well, would you look at that? I’m the fuckin’ president of this charter. My club. My rules. Period. It’s not up for fucking discussion.”
“Z, you’ve known me for years,” she whines.
“Yeah, I have. And someone should’ve done this a long time ago.” He leans in closer and lowers his voice. “You think you were gonna fool one of my prospects to let your ass in? That ain’t gonna work for you no more, sweetheart.”
Her wild gaze lands on Gray, then me, and her face twists into outrage. “You’re taking her side? Over mine?”
“There are no sides here, Tawny. You fucked up big time. You disrespected a brother and his ol’ lady.”
“You lied to my damn face, Tawny,” Gray says. “Swore you’d leave Serena alone.”
“I’d already talked to Pants before I made that promise.” Her eyes bore into me. “Oh my God,” she says slowly, dropping her gaze to my stomach. “You’re fucking pregnant? Already. Your whore ass finally trapped a brother permanently. Good for you,” she sneers.
Since I’d been expecting that reaction from her all along, it has almost no effect on me.
“Christ, Gray,” she continues, as if she’s determined to dig her own grave with her mouth. “What I told Pants wasn’t that far off. You’re fucking pathetic—”
Gray whips a pistol from the small of his back and points it at her head. His face twists with a rage I’ve never seen from Gray before.
Terror shakes me down to the soles of my feet.
“Bitch, I’ll fucking end you if you utter another word,” he says with an eerie calm.
She freezes and sticks her hands up.
“You’ve got five seconds,” Z warns. “Then I’m lettin’ Gray shoot you. That’s the only way you’re getting on this property again. To bury your body in the woods.”
A tear—an actual fucking tear—rolls down her cheek. “Fine.” She lifts her chin. “Tell Sway I was looking for him.”
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” Z jerks his chin. “Go.”
She hops in her black Buick and peels out, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake.
Numb, exhausted, and humiliated, I turn and trudge toward the clubhouse. I doubt it’s the last I’ll ever see of Tawny.
But at least she’s gone for now.
Chapter Forty-One
Grinder
Even after we finally got rid of Tawny, I’m irritated as fuck.
Not in the mood for another party.
Serena steps out of the bathroom. “What do you think?” She holds out her arms and sways from side to side.
Goddess. That’s what I think. A motorcycle club party isn’t where she belongs. Not in that innocent pink dress. Well, it would be innocent except for the deep cut in the front. The rest of it is made up of sheer, floaty layers of pink the shade of cotton candy. The material waterfalls over her bump in a simple, flattering way.
“Gray?” she prompts.
“You’re beautiful.”
She honest-to-God reaches up and squeezes her tits. “My boobs are getting a little big and they’re too achy to mess around with taping them into submission, so,” she crosses her fingers. “Let’s pray they behave.”
