Page 70 of April 5

"I can't—Jesus, woman." Camhead grabbed her wrist. "Jagger ordered—"

She brought up her knee like Jagger had taught her when she was twelve, and Bobby Sandburg kept trying to snap her bra. Camhead doubled over, letting go of her. She lunged for the door and fell into the clubhouse in her hurry. Pushing to her feet, she charged forward, grabbing leather vests as she pulled herself through the crowd.

Making it through the circle of men congregating in the clubhouse, she fell to her knees at the sight of the two men facing each other. Panic swept through her.

"Dad," she screamed.

Her father swung, knocking Jagger backward, but he stayed on his feet. She gasped, reaching out, but one of the Havlin members pulled her out of the way.

"Let me go." She pushed against the man.

The guy thrust her into Bane's arms. "Get her out of here."

"No. No. Please." She flinched as skin slapped skin.

Blood ran from Jagger's face. He wasn't protecting himself against her father. He wasn't fighting.

"Come on," yelled her dad, posed with his fists in front of him. "Hit me back."

Jagger weaved, unsteady on his feet. "Just do it. Kill me."

"No," she screamed, falling to her knees. "Daddy, don't."

Her dad never even looked at her. She looked at Jagger. He stood in front of her dad with his arms at his sides.

The tension between them was palpable, their eyes locked in a way no one around them would understand. Her dad clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. Jagger held his head up, surrendering for punishment but keeping his dignity as the president. He lived for Havlin Motorcycle Club. He believed in the bylaws. He'd pledged his life to each man watching the punishment.

He was an example.

For him to stand there and take the punishment, he had to have ordered each man to stand down. She looked around, seeking anyone who would help her stop them. But she could see the conflict on their faces. They were bothered by the punishment but knew the rules. They wouldn't go against their president's order.

She swallowed her sobs. Jagger was harder on himself than her father was on him. He truly believed death should be his punishment.

Without any warning, her dad lunged forward, aiming a punch at Jagger's stomach. She gasped, covering her mouth. Jagger went down on his knees, grunted, and regained his footing. A grimace of pain flashed across his swollen face.

Her dad walked around Jagger. Quick movements became a blur of punches and kicks.

Katrina barely recognized her father. He was the man others feared. The man who she visited in prison. The one she believed had murdered before. The one still bruised and swollen from fighting his own war.

With a swift uppercut, her dad sent Jagger sprawling to the floor. He tried to rise, but the fight had taken its toll.

"Stop." She couldn't hear her voice. "Please."

In the back of her consciousness, a scream tore through the room. Her dad looked away from Jagger. She followed his gaze into the crowd. A slim, petite woman fought to get past the men. It took Katrina a moment to recognize Rachel.

Katrina's dad stepped toward the crowd. "Don't touch her."

The men parted, letting Rachel through. Her dad swept his thick arms around her, wrapping her against the front of him.

Rachel's hands flew over Katrina's dad's face. He spoke, but the rumbling in the room from the Havlin members made it impossible to hear what he told her.

Jagger pushed himself to his knees, and there he stayed, unable to get up. Katrina crawled out to him.

"Kat." Jagger's head rolled on his shoulders. "Someone get her out of here."

"No." She grabbed his vest, holding him up as she looked over her shoulder at her dad. "No more. You're killing him."

Her dad's hardened gaze softened, looking at her. "For you. He lives. The punishment is done."

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