Page 55 of Patching Over

“RiffRaff, just let me go with them, you can tell Brick when he gets back,” I hurriedly whisper, unwilling for him to be shot trying to protect me with an empty gun of his own.

“Absofuckinlutely not!” he bellows. “Where are the fucking prospects? Y’all should’ve never gotten in here to begin with. Fucking pussies ain’t patching in to my club, that’s for fucking sure,” he growls out.

“Oh, those two are taking a bit of a nap right now,” Hog sneers. “Just a little tap against the head and poof, they went down like lead.”

Terror has me shaking; I know from the years living with Laura and Dave that these four are high which makes them extremely unpredictable. With no one else around, it’s up to me to keep RiffRaff safe while praying the two prospects are just knocked out, not actually dead.

“RiffRaff, please,” I whisper-yell. “I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt protecting me. They’re harmless, I can get away from them.”

He turns to look at where I’m still crouched and shakes his head. “Sweetheart, you belong to my son which means you’re myfamily too. Don’t think I don’t know how much you’ve already done for this club. I may not have all my mind most days, but I’ve been paying attention. Banshee smiles again, my son doesn’t look quite as serious. It’s because of you. There’s no fucking way these douches are getting their hands on you. You’ve suffered enough because of others. Not fucking happening.”

Before I can respond, he turns and levels his gun at the one in the middle and pulls the trigger.

Nothing.

No loud report, no bullet flying through the air, no body dropping to the ground.

When the four men realize his gun is empty, they rush the table, pistol-whipping him until he falls out of his chair and onto the floor then they grab me.

My last glimpse of RiffRaff shows blood pouring in rivulets from his head.

I wake up dazed and confused, not knowing where I’m at, just that I’ve got a horrible headache that’s pounding at my temples, and I’m currently tied to a chair.

The space itself isn’t very big, with everything laid out in the open. The room is dusty as hell, which has me coughing when I attempt to inhale a deep breath.

My side hurts too, probably from where Hog kicked me when I managed to break away and attempted to run. That’s how I wound up unconscious; apparently, these jerk faces don’t care about the old saying of you shouldn’t hit women.

But I gave as good as I got until I was knocked unconscious, I think as a wicked smile crosses my face remembering how I drew some blood too. Hog’s face has deep gashes on both cheekswhere I dug my nails in when he tried to pick me up. Beaver has a black eye because I punched him as hard as I could, and Clock is limping because I kicked the hell out of him between his legs when he got too close to me. Sands isn’t faring much better himself.

All good things came to an end though when they surrounded me, because then my focus was on nothing more than protecting my unborn child. As I curled into a fetal position, one hand protecting my stomach and the other my head, they descended with fists and feet. So, despite no mirrors being immediately seen, I know my flesh bears plenty of bumps and bruises.

“He’s gonna kill y’all,” I whisper-sing even though I’m all alone in this ramshackle place. A good strong wind would probably knock it down, much like the story of the big bad wolf. I know for a fact my ol’ man is gonna destroy these assholes who dared to touch his woman aka me.

Yep, they’re goners, plain and simple.

The irony isn’t lost on me that I’ve become somewhat bloodthirsty since getting involved with Brick. Of course, I suspect a lot of that has to do with the fact my early childhood was fraught with abuse and terror, so now I’m perfectly fine with those who hurt others being destroyed.

The door flies open, slamming against the wall, and the four dead men walking stroll inside.

“Ah, the princess is awake,” Sands sneers. “Not looking so pretty now though, is she boys?” he asks, the four of them now braying like jackasses.

“Yeah, neither are y’all,” I retort through a snicker. “Hopefully Clock doesn’t have a woman because she’s never gonna find his dick again.”

“You fucking cunt,” he seethes, storming toward me. Beaver’s hand stops him when it slams down onto his shoulder.

“Patience, we can’t kill her. We’re using her as bait to draw them in, remember?”

“Do you really think you’re going to win against the Royal Bastards?” I ask, astonishment dripping from my tone. “Youhaveheard of them, haven’t you? They’re everywhere.”

“Ain’t no Royal Bastards around here,” Hog confidently states. “Just a bunch of pussified Raiders.”

“You’ve obviously been enjoying your product too much, because the Raiders are now part of the Royal Bastards MC.”

I watch with vigorous glee as their faces all pale while their features appear to sink into their skulls. Suddenly, they have that sickly gray pallor which is even worse than what they looked like to begin with.

“That’s right. Y’all fucked up. Not only that but who do you think you hurt before we left? Yep, that would be Brick’s daddy. Do you really think he’s gonna show any mercy or leniency toward y’all when you hurt his father and his ol’ lady? Nope, I don’t think that’s happening for y’all. Sounds like averyunmerry Christmas to me.”

I can’t help myself, I start humming ‘Jingle Bells’ then burst into laughter when I hit the note for ‘sleigh’ because I suspect Brick and his brothers will use a different spelling and meaning of that particular word. It’s one of those words that can be translated for other purposes.

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