Page 54 of Papa's Beloved

“I don’t. Now move so we can leave.”

His eyes narrow. “What, no, please? Where are your manners or did you lose them since you became a biker whore.”

“You’d know about me being a whore since you pimped me out at twelve.”

I spoke loud enough that the surrounding diners could hear me. My voice was firm and even. Not a hint of the venom I felt for him was in those words. No, he won’t know he’s getting to me. That his very presence is the bane of my existence.

“Lower your voice and step outside.”

“Fuck you. I’m not going anywhere with you. In case you’ve forgotten, landlines still work and businesses are required to have one.”

Linden steps forward with his hand going to his pocket, but I’m one step ahead of him. I have a gun out and under my jacket. I took it from my purse the moment I spotted him, but he was too busy trying to be intimidating to see me do it. His men were busy ogling my friends.

He drops his voice. “Listen, you little bitch. Step outside or I’ll put a bullet in one of your friends.”

“Not before I shoot your dick off,” I say with a smile. “I’d aim for the balls, but in my opinion, you lost those the moment you pimped out your first innocent girl.”

His face darkens. “This is not over.”

“Oh, you’re right about that. It’s not over. But know this. I’m not a little girl anymore. I won’t hesitate to defend myself or the ones I love. I’ll put you in the ground if I need to without losing a wink of sleep over it.”

I let my eyes go dead. Smoke’s been teaching me for a few years. I wanted to learn when I did my psych rounds. Some of them can get out of hand and a good icy stare is useful. I watch as fear flickers in Linden’s eyes.

He schools his features quickly.

“You’re outgunned.”

“Am I?”

“I don’t think so,” Tully says.

“I’m a card carrying member of the local gun association,” Stormy replies.

“Papi never lets me leave the house without my little horse.”

I snicker. She’s talking about the Colt pistol she packs. All of our men take us to the range. We need to be able to protect ourselves. Smoke has self-defense class once a week in the club’s gym.

“I never leave home without at least two,” Mayhem says with a smirk.

Chapter 41

Papa

Ahot, searing pain slices through my arm, near the shoulder, but I keep going. I get to Wrath and drag him behind a nearby vehicle. I can see the blood pooling near his stomach. Fuck, got shot. I slip my cut off, letting it hit the ground before ripping my shirt over my head and pressing it to his wound.

“Kill those fuckers and get me, Doc. NOW!” I bellow, rage filling me.

I have one hand applying pressure on the wound. My gun is in my other hand and I wish a mother fucker would. I see anyone, not my brother, coming my direction. I'm putting one between their eyes. Well, maybe a knee cap or two so I can pump the bastard for information before I end his miserable life.

The roar of motorcycles mixes with the gunfire. More guns are added to the fight. The cavalry has arrived and soon the tides turn. Decker, Saber, and Doc race in my direction.

“Someone grab my bag,” Doc yells.

“Wrath, brother, talk to me,” Decker says, hitting his knees beside his twin.

Wrath groans in response. Saber joins his brothers on their knees. They refer to themselves as Kentucky triplets. Something they made up when they were kids. Decker and Wrath are identical twins. Saber, born on the same day in the same hospital, minutes after his brothers, is adopted.

The brothers made room for Doc, who took over applying pressure.

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