Page 89 of Dagger

She pointed at me. “Because John’s gonna go crazy at her about getting hit during the shoot-out.”

“Yeah,” Kennedy interjected, folding her arms across her chest. “And we’re not gonna stand for it.”

“Wait a minute—” I began, but Sophie cut me off.

“She saved Sunny.”

“I’m aware,” I said dryly, looking to the heavens, and muttering, “God give me strength.”

“You’re gonna need it,” Cash told me. “Wildcat ranted for an hour this mornin’ about how Elise getting shot provedthe women should have weapons,” he deadpanned, “for protection.”

Cara sniffed haughtily. “It wasn’t an hour.”

“Babe,” he retorted. “It was.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “It was fifty-five minutes, and I was pissed.”

He barked a laugh. “‘cause I said no.”

Cara let out aharrumph.

Cash chuckled.

“You’re not supposed to be in Church unless you’re damned well invited,” Atlas declared in his loud, booming voice. “Bitches need to get back in the bar.”

Every eye in the room turned to SAA, all of them glaring.

“Did you just call us bitches?” Sophie asked, her voice deathly quiet.

Atlas snapped his mouth shut and visibly gulped.

I stared at him, shocked.

Jesus, even my SAA had succumbed to a pussy whipping.

“Well, this bitch says that if Elise comes in Church, we should all be allowed in to support her,” Kennedy declared. “You’re a brotherhood, and we’re a sisterhood.” Her eyes flashed. “And you don’t fuck with the sisterhood.”

“I love it when you’re in lawyer mode,” Breaker told her, wriggling under the table to adjust the crotch of his jeans. “Revs me right up.”

Kennedy smirked. “Just make sure you bring your monster home with you tonight, Loverboy. I’ll give you a good wedding night eve.”

“Isn’t it unlucky for the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding?” Elise questioned.

“Don’t give a fuck, Duchess,” Breaker stated. “Nobody’s gonna keep me away from my Kitten for an entire night. God’salready thrown me all the luck I need by givin’ her back to me in the first place.”

I watched my Leesy melt. “How sweet.”

Breaker shot her the grin that made the ladies drop their panties from fifty paces.

I sneered at my youngest boy.

Little fucker.

“Can I bang the gavel, John?” Cara asked, nudging Layla and murmuring, “I’ve always wanted to bang the gavel.”

Layla nodded her agreement. “I know, right? Me too.”

My head reared back. “No. You can’t bang the fuckin’ gavel.”

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