Page 21 of Hunter

As I said before, Jax was fast.

His fist pounded into my stomach before I could finish, and then he twisted his knuckles, burying it in that little bit deeper.

I was winded for a moment, but I refused to double over as I caught my breath.

To piss him off, I added, “Prick.”

Wolf laughed, slapping both of us hard on the shoulders before heading back toward the door. As he turned around, I tried so hard not to laugh. Really, I did.

Jax was the one who burst out laughing.

Wolf turned back to us, confusion in his eyes while tears were pricking in Jax’s. I kept my face blank, which didn’t do much to stop the flash of realization then irritation lighting up Wolf’s face like the Fourth of July.

“What the fuck did she do?” he growled, turning furiously to look over his back.

“Did you really, Prez?” Jax asked between laughs.

“Did I what?” Wolf snapped, his frustration rising.

At that point, Jax burst into another fit of laughter, clutching his waist as if he was the one who had gotten punched there.

“Prez,” Lamb called, leaning out of the doorway, dressed in his typical silk shirt and trousers with his ash-blond hair spiked and styled. Posh fucker. “Why do you have‘I cried at Dirty Dancing’written on the back of your neck?”

“Fuckin’whatis written on my neck?” His voice dropped low, and even Jax had to suck in a breath at the rising tension.

Lamb took the opportune moment to fuck with him like the shit stirrer he was. “It says, ‘I cried at Dir—’ ”

“I know what it fuckin’ says!” Wolf snapped, rubbing back and forth across his neck until the skin turned red. “Why won’t this shit come off?” He tilted his head to look in a window’s reflection.

“I hope that’s not permanent marker, Prez,” Lamb added, the grin on his face telling me he was loving every second of screwing with him far too much.

“I hope it’s not a tattoo. Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past her to use one.” Of course, Jax didn’t want to be left out.

“He would have felt it if she was stabbing him with a needle, stupid,” I countered, smacking him upside his head. Sometimes I forgot Jax was only twenty-nine. He might be my best friend, but every now and then, he reminded me of why I contemplated my life choices on occasion. Though Mallory would probably join him in that aspect soon.

“I’m not convinced,” Jax said as Wolf continued to rub the ink off his neck. “Remember that one time when Ripper hit him with that pan when he was out and nada? Didn’t feel a fuckin’ thing.”

I wasn’t sure if he had heard the comments, but after a few more seconds of rubbing, Wolf snapped, “That’s it. I’m off to go find her ass and smack it until it’s black and blue.”

Jax opened his mouth. “But—”

I grabbed him by the collar and started dragging him backward, away from Wolf and toward our bikes before Jax laid himself down for the prez to trample all over in his rampage.

Jax got my drift when he began walking, and I let go of his collar. We heard the clubhouse door slam shut behind us.

“What do you think Prez is gonna do?”

“Fuck all,” I said. “Prez has been wanting her ass ever since he met her, and he has yet to catch her. She’s too fucking smart and outwits him every time.”

Wolf was one of the hardest bikers I knew and had ever known. He was respected, feared, and loyal to a fault. He had dealt with some of the best and worst, and even though he had his past in Russia, he was a strong man.

Except when it came to Anna.

Against her, he was unarmed and unprotected, and she knew how to get under his skin. Us brothers had his back, no doubt about it, but even I had to admit that none us were crazy enough to start a fuck-over game with Anna. She was too unpredictable.

“That you know of,” Jax countered. “Who knows what it was that triggered this bizarre game of theirs? I’d put on a white cloth and call myself Jesus if they haven’t had sex. Besides, I don’t think Anna’s wit is what’s stopping him from having more of her.”

“Then what is?” I asked, letting my curiosity get the better of me.

---