Page 5 of Fire Meets Fire

Well okay then. She had to have accomplished quite a feat. Iron’s a big fucker, but he keeps himself fit. Which means the comatose woman at my feet must be in even better shape, or maybe it’s because she’s more lithe and lighter.

Legend chuckles. “Perhaps she’s a pole dancer.”

It’s one explanation. But my unsummoned glare suggests my brain doesn’t appreciate the idea of him leering at her as though she’s a stripper. Again, unable to explain my unwarranted thoughts, I look down at the subject under discussion. A blink from those previously unseeing eyes gets my attention.

I jerk my chin downward so they notice what I’m seeing. “Maybe she’ll tell us herself, now she’s coming round.”

Legend and Iron step closer and regard her with interest, as I try to tamp my possessive feelings down. Instead, I force myself to remember why I should feel no sympathy for the girl on the ground. She’s not one of ours and has made herself an enemy by breaching our land. If she was a man, I’d already have theprospects digging a hole. I don’t give a damn the value of what she’s taken was only spare change. It’s the principle. You do not steal from the Soulz and live to tell the tale.

I’d fuck her, though. Inwardly, I breathe a sigh of relief.That’s the explanation for my strange reactions.I want her retribution all to myself, well, at least at first, until I get tired of her. Performing sexual favours for me,for us,would be a good punishment. She’d have to be willing, of course. We’re not a bunch of rapists, but I reckon someone like her could be made to see sense. We’ve always an opening for an attractive club girl, and perhaps she could show off those pole dancing skills that Legend suspects she possesses—after she’s given me a few private lap dances, of course.

Or, better still, she could continue to service me exclusively. While I’ve never wanted a relationship, the idea of having what would basically be a sex slave with no other complications turns me the fuck on. Not having to share with the brothers has attractions. I’m sure we could come to some arrangement. She must be hurting for money to be so desperate as to steal, and hey, I’ve more than a few miles under my belt. I know my way around a woman. She wouldn’t be left disappointed. I’m still a good-looking guy. I keep myself active, work out and never have a problem getting female attention. I admit it could be down to the president patch that I wear, though I’m arrogant enough to suspect I’d do as well without it.

Idly I wonder whether she’d prefer the alternative punishment I’d mete out to a man over what I’m considering. Death rather than dishonour? Well, hell, she’d change her mind after she’s experienced being in my bed. Yeah, I might not be the most humble man.

Seeing she’s definitely coming around, I force myself to suppress the instinct to reach down and lend her a hand. Taking their cue from me, Iron and Legend stand at my side, watchingas she struggles into a sitting position, her hands clasped to her head as though it’s aching, making me feel a small pang of guilt in case it was indeed too hard a blow that had knocked her out. I swallow that thought down. She’s no invited guest, and no one could blame me for any damage done.

I stand with arms folded. Iron’s next to me in an identical posture, his expression equally impassive. Legend’s looking on with undisguised interest as her hands slide down her cheeks and at last her eyes start on our boots, follow our legs, and then land on our faces.

She looks at Legend first, next Iron, then focuses on me.

Her voice doesn’t have much strength in it when she says, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” I growl. “Stealing from us?”

Pressing one hand to the ground, she pushes herself up, first to a kneeling position, then getting one foot under her, then the other, until finally she’s standing up. I notice she sways slightly.

It’s only then she gives a reply. “For passing out on you.” Spots of red appear on her pale face as though she’s embarrassed.

Again, I notice she’s no longer the feisty female who had almost taken me down. In a moment of weakness, I ask, “You need a doctor?” Immediately after the words leave my mouth, I’m concerned as to whether or not she’ll answer in the affirmative. From the side glances Legend and Iron are giving me, Iron’s wondering if I’ve lost my mind, while Ledge’s narrowed eyes try to remind me he suggested that in the first place.

She’s a fucking thief, not a princess. If she dies, it’s her fault for coming into our yard.If I could take back the words, I would. Luckily, I have no need to.

She shakes her head and lies. “I’m fine.” Her voice is weak. She doesn’t lookfine. She’s pale, drawn, and appears worn out.

So be it. If she says she’s okay, then who am I to argue? No reason to hold back. Ignoring her discomfort, I bark loud enough to make her wince. “Who are you? What’s your name?”

She raises her chin defiantly.

My hackles rise. “Why were you stealing from us?” In truth, if a pretty thing like her approached us, asked us for some spare parts, we might have let her have them. Their value was next to nothing, but that’s not the point. She hadn’t asked. Our reputation won’t allow us to let her get away with that.

Despite the foreboding expression on my face and the hardness I know she can see in my eyes, she stays dumb.

“Talk to me,” I roar, approaching with my most menacing scowl. It has no effect on her. She doesn’t even flinch.

Her face is completely blank, as if she’s not heard me at all. Her eyes are fixated on a point beyond my head. It’s clear she’s determined not to give me anything.

I’m not the only one who can see a closed book. Iron pulls me aside, leaning to speak into my ear. “What are we going to do, Prez?”

Turning my back on the woman, hoping out of sight will get some sense into my head, I allow myself a moment to think. I yawn, realising it’s late. If it wasn’t for her antics, then I could be in bed and balls deep in a sweet butt by now. Suddenly rectifying that seems the best idea I’ve had. Fucking someone else will get her out of my mind.

Speaking as quietly as he had, I reply, “Let’s keep her as ourguesthere for the night. Figure out what to do with her in the morning.”

Iron grins widely. “I’m sure we can make her ‘comfortable’.” He puts the last word in air quotes.

He’s been my sergeant-at-arms for years, so I’m not surprised he can read my mind. Turning, I take in the pathetic sight of the woman who was fearless only a short time ago. Nowit looks like all the stuffing has been knocked out of her. The refrain echoes in my mind,if she was a man,I’d have no qualms taking her down.After all my years of being a battle-hardened MC prez, I’m still surprised that there’s an innate part of me that feels females should be treated differently. Maybe it’s a timeless thing, going back to men being brought up by their moms, or is the “women and children first mentality” so ingrained? I suppose the human race would have died out if there wasn’t that protective instinct.

I feel angry that her very presence seems to have me twisted in knots. I persuade myself it’s because her gender makes me feel emasculated, as I can’t take the revenge on the person who’s wronged us in the way that I want. Some perverse instinct pushes me to punish her for being so attractive, and for somehow making me care.

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