Page 62 of Shame

“It’s already going to shit since he took charge!” I argue.

“Now that is out of line,” Grizz says to me seriously.

“No, it fucking ain’t,” I grit out. “Asshole didn’t want any part of this club, yet he comes in and takes over, making all kinds of changes and putting us in danger and shit.”

“You know that wasn’t his fault,” Grizz adds calmly.

“Nah, but if maybe he paid better attention and gave a shit about us, it wouldn’t have happened. He hasn’t done a single goddamn thing since they almost killed me and Rhino.”

Grizz sighs heavily, looking at Coyote. He knows I’ve got a point, but is he going to be man enough to agree with me? Or is he going to keep his head up Coyote’s ass?

“What the fuck you want me to say?” Coyote barks, throwing his arms up.

“There have been a lot of changes in the club over the last few years, especially recently. Shit isn’t going to go smoothly right off the bat. You two,” Grizz points between me and Coyote, “need to get on the same page before everyone gets wind of this. I don’t give a fuck how you do it, but you need to do it.”

“Seriously? That’s all you got?” I huff out a disbelieving laugh.

“What the fuck you want me to do, hold your goddamn hand?”

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter, storming from the room and slamming the door behind me. I hop on my bike and take off. Fuck all of them.

Was walking into a rival club’s bar alone a great idea? No.

Was going after their Prez smart? Absolutely not.

Was taking my anger out on the five IR pricks worth it? Hell fucking yes.

I’m bleeding from all sorts of places, my body aches, my muscles burn, but goddamn this feels good. I’m alive, and it’s fucking amazing.

None of them have given up yet, and neither have I. Pretty sure I’m going to die like this, and right now, can’t say I give a fuck. These pricks almost killed me and guess what? They’re getting it right back. If Coyote can’t handle this shit, I fucking will.

I lift a bar stool and swing, hitting two assholes right in the face. They both stumble back, the first one falling to his ass and not moving. Good. One down; four to go.

Someone grabs my shoulder and wails on the back of my head. I duck, turn, and jab my elbow into their waist and dodge forward. They slam into the bar, letting out a grunt. I leave himbe and move to the side just as someone else runs at me. I pick up another stool and slam it onto his back. I’m going to be hurting tomorrow, may even be out for days, but fuck, this adrenaline feels damn good right now!

“I called for backup!” the bitchy fake-blond bartender shouts from the back room. Looks like that’s my queue to leave. I snatch up a broken stool leg from the floor, jam it into someone’s shoulder, then skedaddle.

I hope on my bike and take off blindly. I somehow make it to my house without wrecking my bike or running off the road. Going right for the bathroom, I turn on the shower as hot as it’ll go, strip my clothes and get in. I stand there for a long time, the water running red for an amount of time that’s concerning. I’ll check myself out once I’m dried off, but I’m sure I’m fine. No one pulled a knife or a gun—surprisingly.

I really need to get some darker fucking towels. They always get ruined by blood. I toss it out of the bathroom to throw in the trash later. The fog on the mirror ain’t letting me see shit, so I grab another towel and wipe it down, noting the cut on my cheek and another on my brow that’s still bleeding. Probably needs stitches but I don’t have a suture kit, so I’ll have to make do with what I have. I dig out my med kit and get the glue out. Shit burns as I put it on, but it’s not my first rodeo and it won’t be my last.

When I’m done with that, I head into my room to grab a pair of sweats to put on. It’s still early in the day, but I don’t plan on going fucking anywhere. I need a break from reality.

I drop face first onto my bed and regret it the second it hits the pillow and my cuts sting. I lift my head. Blood on the pillow. Fuck off. I make quick work of gluing it up again, and when I get to my bed this time, I go down on my back. It’s lights out seconds later.

Banging on my front door wakes me. It’s dark, must be late. Whoever is knocking must have a fire under their ass because they’re knocking like their life depends on it.

Groaning, because every fucking inch of my body isn’t happy, I get up and stiffly walk to the door. Okay, maybe I regret going after those pricks for the sole fact I feel like shit. Guess I should work out more. I pull the door open, nearly falling to my ass when I see my brother. Can’t remember the last time he was here.

“The fuck do you want?” I bark.

He scowls, shoving past me.

“I, unfortunately, was voted in to come check on your ass,” he says as he turns to face me. “Heard what you did. You feel good about that? ‘Cause we’re all going to pay for it.”

“Oh, fuck off, Kolt. They got what they deserve after shooting at my ass.”

“And if you’d just waited and not flipped out on Coyote,you’d—”

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