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“Back up,” she demanded. “Or I will scream.”
He grinned and looked over his shoulder. “Guys, we got a screamer.”
She wasn’t sure what it was that sent her over the edge, but her mouth opened, and she released a high-pitched shriek, which echoed in the room. Her eardrums vibrated from the sound of her own scream.
It had gotten all their attention. Gage jumped back, and the screeching sounds of stools echoed in the dark room. The room stirred in silent chaos with Trax stalking toward her. Somehow, he didn’t seem as appealing this time. When her back flattened against the wall, she quickly reached in her bag, fumbling for her mace.
“Fuck, gun,” a masculine voice shouted, and suddenly she fell onto her side and was tackled to the ground, her hand still half in her bag. She gasped as pain rippled through her arm from his hand squeezing her elbow.
“Stop,” she screamed. Her hand released the mace, and she tried to pull away, but he lay over the top of her, his legs caging her down tight.
“What the fuck is going on?” The sharp bark sounded from across the room.
She peeked up past Trax, who had her pinned to the floor, to see a tall man with long hair tied at his nape and a beard to match, glaring down at her. “Who the fuck is she?” He pointed down at her.
“Fuck if I know. Crazy bitch comes in, we think she’s here to party, and she fucking loses her shit, reaching for a gun, Kase,” Rourke said, shaking his head.
“I don’t have a gun. It’s mace,” she panted, breathing heavily from the weight constricting her chest.
A whip of air ruffled her hair, and she turned to the guy who had laid her out. Trax was now hovering over her, which gave her a chance to breathe deeply. Did he realize she struggled for a breath? The corners of his eyes crinkled in a sharp squint.
“Oh, what a fucking sweetheart. You don’t wanna kill us, just fucking blind us. Good to know.”
She lowered her head to the floor, relieving the tension in her neck and putting as much space between them as possible. His dark hair curled around his ears, and his face was days away from a shave. His eyes were darker than his hair, almost black.
“Um, I can explain.”
“You fucking better. And talk fast, bitch.” He leaned in with a menacing scowl. “’Cause I’m losing patience.”
Long gone was any softness she’d seen earlier. Never in her life had she been spoken to in such a cruel and volatile manner. Not even her meanest boyfriend had ever called her a bitch. Well, not to her face.
“You don’t have to be rude,” she muttered, mostly to herself. He angled his head to the side and scowled. She held his stare and licked her lips nervously. His silence was only increasing her fear.
“Trax, get off her.”
Almost immediately, his weight lifted, and she sucked in a deep breath. She slowly turned onto her side and caught his gaze on her. He made no attempt to help her, and she scrambled to get up. She wiped the wispy hairs flying in her face and stared at the barrage of men all dressed in leather and jeans. It was like something out of The Outsiders. So, this is what Cherry felt like.
“Fucking speak.”
She gasped. She had barely gotten up, and already the large man yelled at her. She shifted her gaze to the long-haired man.
“I…um…are you in charge?”
He stared at her and looked around the room at the men who she noticed seemed to calm a bit and were now amused by her question.
“Can’t fucking read?” He pointed to his chest, and the patch read President. He shook his head, twisting his lips. “Ain’t got time for this. You either tell me what the fuck you want or get the fuck out. Getting my dick sucked is the only concern I got, and seeing how you fucked that up, either talk and get out or take her place and drop on your knees.”
Her mouth fell open, and she was speechless. This was how this man talked to people? She was doing him a favor, possibly all these men, and this was how she got treated. She retreated a step and opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.
“Out.” He turned around.
She had had enough. This was bullshit. She was trying to help them.
“You are very rude.” The man halted and turned slowly. The men in the room all locked their harsh glares on her. She should be scared, and honestly, she was, but her anger trumped her fear. Before he could say another word, she stepped forward. Mainly because she needed ample access to the door. A clear line to the right and she’d be outside.
She drew in a breath. “I was trying to do the right thing, which is probably the wrong thing, but most likely the right,” she pointed, “for you.”
“Meth head?” Gage snorted.
