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“Oh, I wouldn’t use her. I’d toss her to my dogs.” Tommy started pacing. “That’s what you used to do, isn’t it, Tanner? When you finished with a woman, you would throw her to your men and let them feed on her until they were good and full.”
“Whatever happened before has nothing to do with what’s going on right now,” I bit out, gripping the pipe in my hand like it was my lifeline when something bumped against my calf.
I took a deep breath when I realized that it was Busy’s forehead. How stupid was I? She was my damn lifeline. Always had been.
“What do you want, Tommy? Is it money? I have money that I can give you. Not like I need it.”
Tommy stopped pacing. “Money’s nice and all but I want to take everything you’ve ever owned. I already took your dog. Now I’m going to take your girl too.”
Red clouded my vision.
“I know you have a thing for animals. Do you make your bitch beg too? I bet she’s a fucking screamer.” He looked around me. “Aren’t you? I could get a lot of money for someone like you.” He stood up straight. “But while she would be fun to play with, it isn’t enough. It’ll never be enough.”
Something inside of me snapped.
I shoved the pistol into the back of my pants and moved the pipe to my other hand. I started tapping it on the ground. For most, it would be considered annoying and I was sure that it was. But for me, it was a countdown.
Ten.
I craved his blood.
Nine.
He would die for thinking he could get rid of my dog and that be the end of it.
Eight.
He would die for thinking he could get my girl. My Busy.
Seven.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tommy stopped pacing, his brows narrowing in the center.
Busy’s breath hitched. She knew. She might not have known me for a long time, but it didn’t matter. I was a monster.Hermonster.
Six.
Five.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“What the fuck are you doing, Tanner?” Tommy raised the gun. “Have you finally lost it?”
Ignoring Tommy’s questions, I was vaguely aware of Busy talking. Whatever she was saying was giving me the strength I needed to take this motherfucker out.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Four.
Three.
I didn’t give a shit that he had a gun aimed at me. I didn’t give a shit that we were in his clubhouse. A clubhouse that used to be run by me. I could only hope that some of the guys still trusted me and were willing to follow me out from under this fucker’s clutches and join a president who deserved that title. If they weren’t, they would die.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Two.
