Page 94 of Manic

I take a deep breath, squeezing Tindra's hand gently. "Honey, in this life... there are always risks. Your grandfather popping up like that, it's just another one of those risks we have to face."

Tindra's brow furrows, her eyes searching mine. "But why, Mom? Why would he want to do something like that?"

I feel a familiar ache in my chest, wishing I could shield her from these harsh truths. But she deserves honesty. "Some people in this world are just cruel, sweetheart. They don't need a reason."

As the words leave my mouth, I hear the clatter of a plate hitting the floor.

I look up to see Lexi standing there, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she turns to face us.

Tindra's plate lies at her feet, food scattered across the floor.

"What the hell, Lexi?" I snap, rising from my seat. "Apologize to Tindra. Now."

Lexi's brown eyes gleam with amusement, her perfectly styled blonde hair swaying as she shakes her head. "Maybe your kid needs to watch where the fuck she's going," she sneers.

I feel my blood begin to boil, my protective instincts kicking into overdrive.

Lexi's been a thorn in my side since I’ve been back, but going after my daughter?

That's crossing a line.

"Apologize," I growl, stepping closer to her. "Or I swear to God, Lexi..."

My fists clench at my sides, and I'm aware of Tindra's eyes on me.

Part of me wants to show her how to stand up for herself, but another part knows I need to set a better example than resorting to violence.

Lexi's smirk only grows wider, clearly relishing the tension she's created. "Or what, Meghan? You gonna run to your ol’ man? Oh wait, he up and left, didn't he?"

I feel my patience wavering, the urge to wipe that smug look off her face growing stronger by the second.

But I force myself to take a deep breath, reminding myself that Tindra's watching, that I need to be the adult here.

"Just apologize and walk away, Lexi," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "Before this gets ugly."

I take another step toward Lexi, closing the distance between us.

The clubhouse suddenly feels too small, too crowded.

The scent of her overpowering perfume mixed with leather fills my nostrils, and I fight the urge to gag.

"Say something else that's stupid," I hiss, my eyes locked on hers. "Trust me, I'm itching for a reason to use your ass to mop the floor."

Lexi's smirk falters for a split second, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face.

But she quickly recovers, squaring her shoulders and tilting her chin up defiantly.

The air crackles with tension.

I can feel the eyes of everyone in the clubhouse on us, waiting to see what happens next.

And God, I hope she fucks up.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Tor

The stench of piss and stale beer hits me as we roll into Frenchtown.

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