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Steph’s door flew open, and she darted toward them.
“Get his stupid fucking ass in the car,” Mav yelled as he shoved Scott toward Steph. “Knock him the fuck out if you have to.” He grabbed the sharp bottle from Scott and flung it to the ground. It shattered with a crash, sending sparkly glass shards skittering across the lot.
“On it,” Steph said with a nod. Then, grabbing Scott by the elbow, she towed him toward the Jeep.
Fire shot from his furious Army-trained eyes, but Mav didn’t give a shit. This stunt could create a whole heap of trouble for Curly and the Handlers.
“Dammit,” he spat out as he stomped back into the convenience store.
He pulled two hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and slapped them on the counter in front of the frantic teen. “For the broken bottle and clean up. You didn’t see shit, got me?”
Threatening innocents wasn’t Mav’s jam, but Scott left him little choice. Losing his shit like that in front of a civilian. Curly was going to fuckin’ flip.
“Trust me, kid, you don’t want the alternative.”
The teen nodded so fast he looked like one of those Bobble Head dolls. “Y-yeah. I g-got it.”
“Good.” Mav tapped his fist on the counter and then made for the door. Shaking his head, he stepped over a puddle of blood and around the injured bikers.
The distant wail of sirens had him jogging toward the Jeep. Stephanie sat behind the wheel with a fuming Scott in the passenger seat. Mav hopped into the back once again.
“Roll out, baby,” he said as he slammed the door.
“What the hell happened?” she asked as she pulled onto the road in the direction Scott had been heading. The GPS on her phone ordered her to continue down this road for another three miles.
“Scott fucked up. That’s what fucking happened.”
Her troubled gaze met his in the rear-view mirror for a fraction of a second before she went back to watching the road.
“What the hell, brother?” Scott whirled around. “I fucked up? Did you hear those two talking? I’m not gonna let them disrespect my fucking prez like that.”
With a grunt, Mav rolled his eyes. “So what? You gonna go around slashing the face off everyone who calls you a name?”
Stephanie gasped.
“Maybe I fucking will. What are you gonna do about it?” Scott huffed like a belligerent teen.
“You looking for a fight?” Mav asked. “Cuz I’ll give it to you, brother, but you might want to conserve your energy for Curly. Cuz he’s gonna roast your fucking ass over a fire.”
And Mav would much rather save his energy for a different kind of wrestling match. One that involved his wife and a whole lot of naked.
CHAPTER FOUR
“YIKES,” STEPH SAID with a wince as she sipped her wine. “Curly is not happy.”
“Nope.” Brooke craned her neck to see into her house from where they lounged out by her gorgeous pool. “Takes a lot to get him riled like that. What exactly happened tonight?”
Shaking her head, Steph set her wine down on the little cabana table between their lounge chairs. “Not a hundred percent sure, to be honest. We stopped for gas, and Scott got into it with some guys in the little store. Bikers, I think. Mav followed him in to see if he could defuse the situation. From what I could see, it looked like Scott lost his temper and attacked the bikers. Hurt them pretty badly.”
Brooke blew out a breath. She wore a simple tee and lightweight sleep pants. Her long hair hung from a loose ponytail high on her head. She had around ten years on Steph, but you’d never know it to look at her.
“No wonder Curly is so steamed.” Brooke gazed at the pool with a troubled expression.
“Hey,” Steph said, placing a hand on Brooke’s shoulder. “I’ve been around this club for a few years now. Things get tense sometimes, but they’ll work it out.”
“Do you know Scott well?”
Steph tilted her hand back and forth. “Eh, I wouldn’t say well. I’m super close with his sister, and I’ve met him several times over the past few years, but I wouldn’t say I know him well.”
“Chloe, right? Rocket’s ol’ lady.”
Steph grinned. “That’s the one. Awesome chick. She’s been through some nightmare shit, kicked ass, and is living a great life.”
“I’ve heard. She sounds amazing. So strong.” Brooke sipped her wine.
“That she is,” Steph said with a nod. Then she winked. “All us Handler’s ladies are pretty badass.”
Laughing, Brooke raised her glass. “That we are.”
Steph clinked her glass against Brooke’s. “Seems like Scott is having trouble adjusting to life outside the military. From what I know of him, he’s never been this volatile.”
They both fell silent as the roar of Curly ripping into Scott played in the background. Mav had joined Curly for the conversation while Steph and Brooke excused themselves to the backyard. Though they might as well have been right there, with the way they could hear every four-letter insult out of Curly’s mouth.
