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“Looks like I’m not the only one fucked,” Declan murmured. He had no fucking clue how pissed off seeing her in that collar made me. It was one thing for her to still have it but to wear it? Oh, she fucking knew what she was doing. She knew what it’d do to me.
My blood ran hot, and my ears burned. I wanted to play nice. I planned to play nice. All of Declan’s words had gotten to me.
Almost.
But then she went ahead and showed up looking like that while wearing a collar I’d given her, and all bets were off. There was no way in hell she could walk into the Iron Wolf and not turn fucking heads. She knew it. And I could almost guarantee some part of her was fucking hoping she would. A fucking test of my goddamn limits.
Game on. If she wanted to play the role of a bratty sub and fuck around with the guys inside the bar while wearing my fucking collar, then I’d have to teach her a fucking lesson.
My dick was a fucking pillar of stone in my pants. That was the goddamn problem with watching my wife. Not only did it piss me off to no end, but it also turned me on like no other. Those curvy hips of hers swaying as she danced, her sexy-as-sin smile, her confidence and enthusiasm. I was fucking drunk on the sight of her, and I was in trouble for it.
And while I loved the twirl and sway in her hips, I fucking loathed the goddamn men she danced with. Every time one of them put their hands on her, I imagined cutting off their goddamn hands. I tracked her every movement in the busy fucking bar, stowing away names of patrons I knew who got a little too friendly with my wife. Stupid? Probably. But I didn’t fucking care. She started this shit.
My brothers and the Ironwoods chatted animatedly around me. They drank and dug into half a dozen appetizers, but I tuned them out. I was too fixated. I couldn’t let go. I couldn’t have fun. I was a fucking mess on the inside. Rage, frustration, jealousy. They all swirled together violently inside me. I just wanted something to fucking hit—or someone. There were lots of fucking options for that.
Next to me, Declan wasn’t in any better of a mood. Though, I had to give him credit. He was trying a hell of a lot harder than I was. Still, even though he held a steady conversation at the table, his gaze never stopped tracking Raven throughout the room. Occasionally, he got up and joined them, even if only for a few minutes.
And as for Raven, Isla, and Genevieve? The women were having the time of their lives with Cade. Drinking, dancing, and food. Meanwhile, the bar was in full swing around them with more people than I’d seen here in a long while.
The chaos was overstimulating. The chatter and music pounded against my skull, painfully chipping away at my self-control. This was boding so fucking well for my return to Cedar Harbor. Fuck.
“Okay, who here actually fucking practiced for tomorrow?” Lucas demanded. I chuckled, the question catching me off guard. The Ironwoods opted for a less physical competition. Instead of some crazy endeavor, we spent the night in the bar and engaged in a karaoke contest. Even though we were fucking singing, it had always been the wildest of the fucking three competitions. There were too many singers among us and too many of us with egos trying to outdo one another. Hell, one year, it’d turned into who could do the best strip tease while singing. And I didn’t give a shit what anyone said, my performance was the fucking best one that year.
Hell, I was almost fucking certain I’d caught Roan singing Let It Go from Frozen.
“Did you fuckers practice what I asked you to practice?” I asked under my breath as my eyes drifted briefly to where Declan was by the bar with Raven. I had an epic surprise planned for the two lovebirds, which involved not only my brothers but all the pack leaders. Would Declan fucking kill me? Yes. Would it be worth it? Fuck yes.
Before anyone could reply, we heard Raven shout Declan’s name and all turned just in time to see my brother deck some douchebag in a baseball jersey. The livid expression on Declan’s face as he went in to hit the guy again was something I’d never seen. I flew out of my chair just as two guys grabbed Declan from behind—Ironwood pack members—to keep him from hurting the guy. Raven was shouting as she tried to step in. And the douchebag fucking lost his shit. And so did his equally douchebag-like friends.
“Back off!” I hollered and shoved the guy in the baseball jersey back when he tried to go at Declan. I pointed at the two guys holding my brother. “Get the fuck off him. I’ve got this.”
Same shit, different day, different people. I had weirdly mastered the art of breaking up bar fights.
“He hit me first!” the guy snapped.
“Why’d you hit him, Dec?” I asked.
“Because he’s fucking crazy!” The douchebag was really holding true to his name.
“He put his hand under her skirt,” Declan growled. Oh, it was like that. My gaze flicked to Raven. She was flustered and seething, clearly caught between wanting to beat the guy and keeping Declan from doing something stupid.
On any given day, I broke up a fight.
But fuck that. Not today.
Today, I was starting a fight because Byrnes stuck together.
“You fucked with the wrong man’s fiancé,” I announced loudly as I rounded on him. And then I bashed the douchebag’s head into the bar with a satisfying crack. He’d live.
Hopefully.
I loved a good fucking fight. I loved a fair fight. The bar fight that broke out was anything but. It was unfettered fucking chaos that vibrated against my skin, leaving me amped up on the feeling.
Who was fighting who and for what fucking reason became a question I’d never get the answer to. I just stuck next to Declan and punched the fucking morons who decided to mess with a Byrne’s woman—his and mine. Yeah, I beat some of the assholes who touched my wife. And I definitely broke a few hands without remorse. They fucking deserved it.
Raven let out a wordless scream and hit a guy in the head with a bottle before he could hit me. I stared at the wild thing breathing hard next to me. This wasn’t her first fucking bar fight.
“Villains unite?” She posed it like a question, and I grinned.
