Page 25 of Dizzy

I lunge forward, drive my shoulder into him, knocking him onto his ass. I’ve got my boot raised to crush his larynx when Nickel drives into me from behind, shoving me aside.

Heavy leaps to his feet. The metal chair clatters to the floor.

Jed scrambles to his feet, puffing his chest, arms stretched wide. “What the fuck, man?”

“Touch her again. I’ll kill you.”

“Have you gone insane?” Jed glances from brother to brother. No one backs him. They’re gawping as if they never seen me before.

“You wanna go or what?” I’ll settle this now. Not a problem.

Jed doesn’t make a move. He knows I can lay his ass out cold in one shot.

Nickel eases away from my side. I suck down a deep breath. I’m good. The red is seeping away, and I’m myself again.

“Back away from her.”

Jed spits, but he steps away toward the leg machine. “Who’s this gash to you?”

Nickel claps a steadying palm on my shoulder. “Ain’t worth it,” he murmurs.

Jed sneers. Weak-chinned, wannabe motherfucker. I should drop him on principle. I’ll pick which one afterwards.

Heavy gestures for Jed to shut up, and then he turns to me, palms raised. “This was not part of my calculations.” He shakes his head, smiling wryly. “Dizzy, my apologies.”

What’s he apologizing for?

Everyone’s staring at me. Fay-Lee’s eyes are eating up half her face. I catch my reflection in the mirrored wall.

Oh.

I unclench my fists. I can’t do anything about my face, though.

I don’t think I ever looked like this before. Like I’m about to do murder.

It ain’t that I’m unfamiliar with violence. Yeah, I mostly work at the garage. I fill in at The White Van, rousting drunks. But on occasion, if you belong to a club like this, you pull a messy job. And I did do two tours in Iraq.

Still, I’m not one to spar by the bonfire or brawl at the bar. If it’s got to be done, I’ll do it, but I’d rather be in the garage.

Or I was. My blood’s coursing through my veins, and I have to flex my fingers to stop myself from balling them back into fists. If we were alone, I’d happily mash Jed’s head into the free weights until it’s pulp and bone shards.

“A word?” Heavy gestures to the alcove.

I ain’t leaving Fay-Lee here with that asshole.

“She’ll be cool, boss,” Mikey the prospect pipes up. He plops down on the bench next to Fay-Lee and grins at her. “’Sup?”

She tentatively lifts a shoulder, baffled and tense. “Not much?”

Mikey is a distant cousin on my mom’s side. I’ve known him since he was born. He’s almost as skinny as Fay-Lee, but I trust him.

Still. “He doesn’t touch her.” I point at Jed, and then I glare at the other brothers. “No one touches her.”

“Understood.” Heavy gestures toward the stairs. I lead the way, up and out into the yard. The cool air hits me, and I take a deep breath. Damn, it was stifling down there.

Heavy leans against the building, takes a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and shakes one loose for me.

“Nah, man.” I quit after my discharge. Quit for good after we had Carson. Hardest thing I ever done.

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