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“Sup, man.” I greet him.
“All good.” He tips his coffee mug to me.
“Uncle Mav, Mom said that you got beat up by some rich punks,” Hazel’s middle and bratty kid, Alex, calls to me.
My gaze snaps to my sister, who is sniggering behind her coffee mug. Little shit.
“Really, Sis?”
She shrugs. “Well, you did.”
“Fuck all the way off and then fuck off some more. You know that is not what happened.” I sound offended, which makes everyone laugh at me.
Fuckers.
“So, what happened, Uncle?” Marli, my darling niece, asks.
She is the spitting image of her mother, and I can tell you now that her father and brothers will be beating boys up for her for years to come. We click, we have since she was born fourteen years ago.
Whenever we went to visit, or they came here, she was on me like I was her everything.
“We took the fuckers down who were drugging and raping girls. One rich cunt got lucky, that is all.” I turn to glare at my sister again.
The smile has slipped from her face; I can only assume that she didn’t know why we were there, only that I got hurt.
“Why do men think they can do this? It is not right. Women are people too, we have rights.” Marli’s voice wobbles, so I go to her, pulling her into my arms, and hugging her tightly.
“Some men are cowards, baby girl. They think that women owe them everything, so they take what is not theirs to take. What some do not understand is that it was a woman who gave them life, so they should be the ones who owe women everything.” My sweet sensitive niece nods against my chest.
“No fucker will ever hurt you or Violet, Marli. You have the club at your back, as well as your dads and brothers,” my father’s voice booms.
“Damn fucking straight, and their mom,” Ranger snaps from Zeb’s side.
Their twins, Nobel, and Violet, stand close by, nodding in agreement.
“Fuck me, that went deep really fast after stating that Uncle Mav is a pussy who got beat by a rich kid,” Will calls out.
Everyone laughs because the kid is right. Kid; fuck, he is only five years younger than my twenty-four.
“How are your arm and leg, baby?” my mom asks.
Walking over to her, I tug her out of my father’s arms and into mine, holding her tight. I know she was worried for me when word got to her that I was hurt; she is always worrying about me and my dad.
“They are good, Mom. Stitches itch like a bitch but the pain is fading each day.” I kiss the top of her head before my father pulls her back to him.
“Jeez, old man, I get it.” I laugh.
“Did the stitches fuck up your ink?” Zeb calls.
“It might disfigure the petal a little, but nothing too bad, thank fuck.”
He nods. “You coming in for more ink?”
“Fucking hell, Zeb, he just got sliced up. Give him a chance to heal from that before you stab him over and over with an ink gun,” Ranger pipes in.
Everyone laughs at her, while Zeb shrugs and winks at me.
“But I like stabbing him, baby. Are you forgetting that I practically grew up around Risky? That woman likes to stab people for fun too.”
