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And Emmett knew it.
Which is why instead of stepping forward, he eased back. “You want the bitch? You can have her.” He paused for a second before adding, “For now.”
Thankfully, Huntsman and Ripley were there, dragging Emmett backward so Drake had to pull back the attack I felt twitching in his muscles. Probably before the room full of camera phones that had been pointing at us since people noticed the disturbance, couldn’t film Drake almost killing the stupid bastard.
The club ushered Emmett out the door and into the lobby, and he went without a fight against the solid wall of men I’m not sure anyone would want to take on.
When he was out of sight, I stepped around Drake and reached for his face, cupping his jaw with my hand. “Hey.” He blinked a couple of times before he looked down at me, and his shoulders finally slumped out of fighting position. “You want me to go ask the guys from fight night if they’ll take you two as a last-minute entry?” I joked, and he let out a huff of laughter before reaching for my hips.
“You did good,” he praised, squeezing me softly.
Inhaling deeply, I nodded. “Maybe I was a little too honest when I said thank God Brian wasn’t going to cause any more women pain.”
The problem is I meant it.
“Taking a life isn’t something I want to laugh about, joke about, or be proud of, but it is something I feel like maybe I can find peace with.”
Not yet.
But soon.
“It’ll take time,” Drake admitted. “But honestly, the world is full of scumbags ready to hurt their girlfriends and wives to make themselves feel more manly. One less will not be missed.”
“Damn, seems I missed all the excitement,” Zoey noted with a laugh as she plucked her martini from the back and drank the whole thing in one hit. “Huntsman called my cell and said to meet them out front where we parked. Something about there being less trash at the clubhouse.”
Drake swept his arm around me, and we headed out through the extensive lobby that I wish I’d been able to take a better look at. The ornamental fixtures and flowers decorating the space were such a different world.
When we got outside, the club was already there waiting for us.
“Where did Emmett go?” Drake asked, his eyes narrowed.
I was glad he wasn’t there, but obviously, Drake had intended on having his own interaction with him.
“Bitch boy tattled to a couple of cops that were patrolling, said we were harassing him, so they told us to let him go,” Ripley explained, crinkling his nose.
“We’ll deal with it later,” Huntsman ordered, giving a pointed look to both his sons before he climbed on his ride. “Let’s get back. After watching that one guy in the ring grab the frat dude’s balls and twist them…” Zoey laughed, and he hit her with a hard glare. “Fuck that. I need a beer.”
I walked over to Drake’s ride, waiting for him to climb on before I placed my foot on the peg, ready to lift myself over, but I slipped, almost pulling Drake over.
“Woah,” Drake called, kicking his stand out.
I stumbled back a couple of steps, but Diddit caught me before I landed on my ass, helping me to find my footing again before he let go.
“You good?” Drake asked with a frown.
I nodded, lifting my shoe and noticing the gleam of liquid on the bottom. I glanced over, noticing it was pooling under Drake’s motorcycle. “What’s that?”
I pointed, the boys following my finger.
Drake’s club brother, Strip, crouched down and dipped his fingers into it, rubbing it between them before taking a sniff.
He pulled back. “It’s brake fluid.”
“Cash!” Huntsman snapped, the young kid jogging over from the SUV he drove. Drake had mentioned he’d only just become a prospect and was in the process of doing up a ride. “You see anyone touch these?”
He had stood out here at the front of the casino to watch the motorcycles while we were inside.
Cash shook his head. “The strip got busy as hell for a little while, but nah.”
