Page 101 of Manic

"Trust me, sweetheart," I say, my voice low and menacing, "if I wasn't being nice, you'd know it."

We stand there for a moment, locked in a silent battle of wills.

The tension in the air is palpable, and I'm acutely aware of the eyes on us, the other club members andhoraswatching our every move.

Before I can say anything else, a flash of blonde hair cuts through my vision.

Skadi, Logi's ol' lady, steps between me, Lexi, and Tindra, her hand firmly gripping Lexi's arm.

"Give her some damn space," Skadi says, her voice low but carrying an unmistakable edge of authority.

Lexi huffs, her chest heaving with frustration.

She looks like she wants to argue, but one glance at Skadi's steely gaze has her thinking better of it.

With a final dramatic sigh, she stomps off toward the bar.

Skadi turns to me, her blue eyes softening. "Pay her no mind, Meghan. She's not worth the trouble."

I clench my fists, my blood still boiling. "If that bitch fucks around with my kid again, I'm going to make things bloody. And I won't stop at just her face this time."

Skadi nods, a look of understanding passing between us.

In club life, I don’t have the luxury of ignoring dumb bitches like Lexi.

If I let her get away with this shit, I’ll have a long line of bitches who try to do the same.

Tindra tugs at my sleeve, her gray eyes wide. "Mom, it's okay. It wasn't a big deal."

I cup her face in my hands. "No, baby, it was. That was blatant disrespect, and I won't allow that to happen to you. Not ever."

As I stand, I notice Jaycee, one of the otherhoras, already on her knees cleaning up the mess.

Her pale skin contrasts sharply with her reddish-copper hair as she methodically picks up the scattered food.

"You don't need to do that," I tell her, feeling a pang of guilt.

Jaycee looks up, offering a small smile. "We all know Lexi won't clean it up. It's the respectful thing to do."

I'm taken aback by her kindness.

In a world that can be so harsh, these small acts of decency stand out like beacons.

"Thank you," I manage to say, my voice thick with emotion.

To my surprise, Tindra drops down beside Jaycee, her small hands joining in the cleanup effort.

Pride swells in my chest at my daughter's actions, even as worry gnaws at me.

This life—is this really what I want for her?

To grow up surrounded by violence and power struggles, where kindness is the exception rather than the rule?

I watch them work together, my mind racing with possibilities and fears.

Jaycee's gentle voice breaks through my swirling thoughts. "Tindra, sweetie, why don't you go get another plate of chili and all the fixin's? I've got this covered."

My daughter hesitates, her eyes flickering to me for guidance.

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