Page 11 of Prez's Property

I shrugged. “Remember who we are, though, Dawson. We’re at your beck and call. You want her to stop sleeping with the other brothers? You’ve got to make it known you’re trying to claim her.”

He sighed, eyeing me for a moment before he spoke again. “When the fuck did you become so wise, darlin’?”

I shrugged. “Probably when I started getting used as a piece of ass, but yet, I’m not allowed to sleep with other men either.”

Dawson shook his head and stood up from his bar stool. “You deserve more, girly.”

With that, he strode away.

I know, Dawson. I know.

I was emerging from the bathroom when Whitney cornered me.

Fuck.

I wasn’t prepared to fucking deal with her yet.

“What – no quickie in the bathroom?” she sneered at me.

I gritted my teeth so I wouldn’t lash back at her. Stepping to the side, I moved to walk around her, but she blocked me, crossing her arms over her chest.

Here we fucking go.

“You think I don’t fucking know about you and my husband, Olivia?” she snapped. “That perfume you fucking wear is very distinct.”

“You don’t know a damn thing,” I spit at her, finally having enough of her shit.

She shoved me back a full step. I clenched my fists so I wouldn’t bash her face against the wall for touching me. I was a fighter, and I hated laying down and taking whatever she dished out to me. “You keep your goddamn hands to yourself, you fucking trashy whore. He’s my husband.”

“We’re not doing anything!” I shouted at her, finally losing my cool. I didn’t give a single fuck for lying to her. “Whatever fucking issues you’ve got with your husband, you need to fucking take up with him like a goddamn woman instead of lashing out at other women all because you’re insecure in your fucking marriage!” I stepped up close to her as Dawson and James rushed around the corner. “And for your fucking information, Tanner and Brit also use the same fucking perfume I do. I would know since we fucking bought the same kind at the same fucking time.”

With that, I stormed around her, shoulder checking her. James already has his phone to his ear.

It took everything in me not to lash out at him for tattle-tailing like a little bitch to his fucking president.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Dawson whispered as I stormed past him. “Club rules.”

I gritted my teeth and continued walking out of the hallway.

Fuck your goddamn club rules.

14

I lit the blunt, inhaling, letting it settle in my lungs before I blew it out. After finding me scrubbing the tables so hard I was surprised I wasn’t fucking sanding them down, Dawson handed me a blunt and sent me out here to smoke and chill out.

My phone rang beside me. With a sigh, I grabbed it, my gut twisting at the sight of Elijah’s name on my screen.

Christ.

I did not have the energy to deal with his shit right now.

I was half tempted to ignore it, but I knew that would just make the entire situation worse.

Sighing, I swiped my thumb across the screen, pulling my phone up to my ear. “Hello?”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he roared into the phone. His voice was so loud that I snatched the phone away from my ear, flinching at the volume.

“She started with me,” I snapped at him when I had the phone back to my ear, not even giving a fuck that I was talking to the president anymore. I didn’t give a fuck if he ended everything between us right then and booted me out of the club, firing me.

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