Page 19 of Justice

Chapter 4

Christopher

I fucking lovethe smile on her face as everyone passes her around, hugging her, rubbing her tiny baby bump.

I’m so in love with Elle, she is the light in the room as everyone swarms around her.

Derek, her dad, is standing a few feet away from me holding a beer. There is one thing that I need to take care of.

I move over next to him. "Brother, how do you feel about getting some justice today?"

His head snaps toward me, a slow grin on his face. "What did you have in mind?"

"I think someone needs to learn a lesson." He raises an eyebrow at that, with Reid watching us. "Anyone up for some fun?" I wave them over, and my dad joins in too. We gather in the corner while I fill them in on what happened earlier.

I walk over to Elle, who's surrounded by the girls, already planning the nursery. I kiss her on the temple and hug her close. "The guys and I are heading out for a bit, we'll be back later to pick you up." She smiles at me, looking happy.

Harlan and Cole volunteer to stay and watch over the girls. We don't have prospects anymore like we used to back when mydad was first starting out in the club with my grandpa as the president.

Speaking of Grandpa, he jogs out of the clubhouse with that wicked grin on his face that speaks of trouble.

“Well, shit.” Butcher laughs at the sight of his father-in-law escaping the crowd.

Adeline walks out of the clubhouse rolling her eyes. “Remember your back is out, ole man!” she yells after him.

Grandpa doesn't even know what we're up to, but he's along for the ride anyway. That's just how he is, always ready for action. As we all kick our bikes into gear, the rumble of engines fills the air.

The wind whips against my face as we tear down the open road. There's nothing quite like this feeling—the brotherhood, this sense of belonging. Our cuts flap in the breeze, a symbol of who we are and what we stand for. This town is ours, and everyone knows it.

I edge my bike up next to Dad's, and he flashes me that grin I've seen a thousand times before. It takes me back to the day he bought me my first bike.

Now, as we ride side by side, I can't help but think of Elle. One day, she'll be on the back of my bike, her arms wrapped tight around me.

We cross town, leaving the familiar streets behind and rolling into the newer developments. The houses here are all shiny and new, cookie-cutter perfect.

Grandpa pulls up beside me, confusion etched on his weathered face. He eyes the pristine houses then looks back at me, one eyebrow raised in silent question.

"See that house over there?" I nod toward a particular house "That belongs to the manager of McGuire's. You know, one of our restaurants?"

Grandpa's eyes narrow, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. "And why are we paying him a visit?" he asks, his voice gruff with suspicion.

I clench my jaw, anger bubbling up as I remember Elle's hurt expression. "His wife thought it'd be a good idea to disrespect our girl today. Treated Elle like she was complete shit."

A low growl escapes Grandpa's throat. "Well then," he says, cracking his knuckles. "Looks like we've got some manners to teach."

While everyone’s smiles fade, Smiley's grin grows even broader, and I can't help but share a smirk with him.

The manager steps outside, his face going white as he takes in the sight of our crew. He tries to play it cool, but his voice wavers. "Hey, guys, what's going on here?" His eyes flicker nervously from one intense face to another, sweat starting to drip down his temples.

“We need to talk. Is your wife home?” I step up his front steps, my boots echoing ominously. The manager swallows hard, glancing nervously at the crew behind me before he stammers out, “She… she’s upstairs.”

“Better go get her,” I order, my voice cold and unyielding. He rushes inside, tripping over himself in his haste to obey me. We own this house too; he lives here rent-free as part of his payment for managing the restaurant. But today, that privilege counts for nothing. Today, there will be consequences.

We step into the house, my eyes scanning the interior. Clothes strewn across the floor, dishes piled high in the sink. It’s a fucking wreck. The disarray only fuels my anger. This bitch can't even keep her house clean, but she has the audacity to disrespect Elle?

I hear footsteps on the stairs and my gaze snaps to the source. Walking down the stairs is the bitch that disrespectedElle. She looks put out, her eyes heavy with sleep and her hair a tangled mess.

But then her gaze lands on me, and I watch as the realization hits her like a freight train.

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