Page 167 of Chaos

“I know what you did!” I scream at him as I rocket faster.

His arm leaps up to block my blow. “Fuck you, Jax!” he screams as he tries to veer away from me.

Slamming on his brakes, he falls behind me and cuts across the oncoming traffic, swerving between two heavy duty cargo trucks.

Fuck. There’s a concrete divider.

I barely catch a glimpse of him turning off.

Nope. Not happening.

Pulling back as hard as I can, I yank my bike into a wheelie and land the front tire up on the median, then hit the throttle, gunning for the spot I last saw him.

Gotcha. His rear end disappears down the far road two intersections down.

Dodging headlights and horns, I weave past several wide eyed drivers before jumping onto the sidewalk. Screaming at people to get out of the way, I finally find the cut-off and hit the gas.

There he is.

Asshole thought he could lose me.

One more time, I pull my Ducati up on its back wheel, this time letting my legs dangle as I twist the throttle.

Letting go, I let myself roll and bounce on the hot asphalt as my beloved bike crashes over Brody’s head and throws him off of his own ride.

I’m already on my feet before he even lands.

It’s the best feeling in the world when my fist lands against his face.

“You. Fuck. You. Drugged. Me.” Each word is punctuated by my knuckles slamming into him.

He tries to throw his hands up to fend me off. “You deserved it!” he screams before his teeth crack with my next strike.

I sit back on my heels. “Why? What the fuck did I do to you?”

He pushes himself up on his elbows, touching his bleeding lip gingerly. “You grew up with everything. I grew up with nothing,” he spits. “My whole life was mom telling me how much she regretted leaving your dad to marry mine.”

When he tries to sit all the way up, I land another hard hit to his cheek, knocking him flat again.

“Fuck,” he groans, twisting to lay on his side.

“You better give me a damn good reason not to stomp your face into this curb.” I stand and kick him in the ribs.

“She’s mine.” He curls and coughs blood. “You have everything I wanted. I deserve her back.”

My boot finds his stomach. “You worthless asshole. You had her. It’s your own fault she left.” I’m having a hard time feeling sorry for him.

All I can think about is the pain on Sofia’s face when I told her I had cheated on her.

He did that. He made me do that. I hurt her, and he almost ruined me.

My foot connects again, and I feel a crack.

Well. Look at what parking lot we ended up in. His clubhouse.

“Isn’t this convenient. We’re at your homebase, brother-boy. Let’s get a little closer, okay?” Grabbing him by the back of his shirt, I drag him across the sweltering concrete.

There’s an old fashioned hitching post in the front of the tired western themed bar that frames the big main doors.

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