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If she thinks it will make me change my mind about her, then she’s dead fucking wrong. She’s just cemented her future even more. How many fucking times do I have to remind her that she’s never fucking getting away from me?
“Sasha, get her patched up by Doc.” I demand, taking control since Rocco is too fucking busy tearing the pictures from the walls.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!”
Rocco’s roar stills everyone as he takes his rage out on the pictures before turning his sights to a chair nearby, kicking it until he picks it up and hauls it at the wall.
“Get this fucking shit off my walls!”
“I think the Miller bitch should clean it up since she’s clearly the one who did it.” Munroe offers as all eyes turn to Zoe.
Not me, though. I’m laser fucking focused on Munroe now, my lip twitching as I ball my fists and storm his way.
I don’t make it to him, getting shoved from the side as Tex and Doug slam into me, throwing fucking fists at each other.
What the fuck.
The next thing I know, Alana is screaming in Slayer’s face and Slasher tries to pull him back, but they start fucking shoving each other, and Titch gets a fist in his face from Stretch before he delivers a blow back and then it’s just fucking on.
Everyone is fucking scrapping.
I lock eyes with Zoe across the room who looks mortified, although I’m not sure if that’s from what she’s witnessing or because she knows she’s in big fucking trouble.
I scan the space seeing the Cruz Cunts either running for cover or joining the melee, and Gunner has joined in, with a headbutt to Munroe on my fucking behalf.
What! The! Fuck!
Without a second thought, I pull my gun free from the back of my pants, lifting it toward the ceiling before squeezing the trigger.
The bang is loud and piercing, and a few shocked squeals sound from the girls, but otherwise all the ruckus dies down as everyone freezes mid-fight to see what’s going on.
I make the mistake of glancing at Zoe and see her hands near her ears, her face contorted in fear as she starts to tremble.
Fuck. The Gun. I didn’t think to consider how she would react to gunfire after what happened the day her family was attacked.
I want to go to her. Pull her in my arms and hold her tight. But I can’t. Not right now.
Right now, I need to take control of the fucking shit show surrounding me. So with reluctance, I drag my gaze from my princess and eye everyone else.
“The next person who throws a fucking punch or opens their fucking mouth to spew anger at someone else in this fucking building will be eating my fucking bullets!”
My words are a roar, my chest heaving in anger as I glare at every person in the room, including my fucking Prez. Slowly, the guys release each other, or offer a hand up from the floor, and the girls compose themselves, retracting their fucking claws.
“Everyone is fucking frustrated right now,” I snap, slowly lowering my gun to my side. “The Reapers keep coming at us making our lives fucking hell, and this is exactly what they want. Us turning on each other. Well, not on my fucking watch. We are a family. A unit. We don’t always have to get along, but when the going gets tough we fucking back each other, and right now all I’m seeing is a bunch of sorry assholes who are whining about not getting laid, taking it out on the wrong fucking people.”
Gritting my teeth, I suck in a calming breath as I shake my head, taking a moment to compose myself.
“I get that you are missing Cara,” I say quieter, no longer needing to yell since I have everyone’s attention. “And strike all you fucking want…” I refer to the Cruz Cunts, and groans fill the room from a couple of the men. Lifting my gun, I point it at each of my brothers. “Someone got something to say?”
When no one speaks, I lower my gun again and continue. “As I was fucking saying. Stay on strike if that’s what you feel you should do, but stop fucking flaunting it in front of the men. From now on, if any public sexual behavior happens, it means it’s a fucking invitation for others to join in. If you don’t want that, keep it behind closed doors.”
“You don’t have the authority to make that demand,” Sasha snaps, and I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to stay fucking calm, but it doesn’t fucking work.
“You know the fucking hierarchy in the club, Sasha. I know you fucking do. You were there the day it all fucking began. Have you forgotten already?”
“No, but…” She shakes her head, struggling to find a reason for her fucking but.
“Grayson has every fucking right, and it pisses me off that you are even fucking questioning it!” Rocco snaps.
