Page 65 of Sypher

“Well, that still remains to be seen.” Sinclair smirked, then slowly taunted, pulling on the leash attached to the collar around Dante’s neck, who shrank deeper into the booth. “But if you want him, then by all means come get him.”

Every muscle in my body tightened, my fists clenched into tight fists, and a feeling of anticipation washed over me as I braced myself for what I knew was coming. As the confrontation unfolded, the club’s patrons, who had been murmuring amongst themselves, fell into a tense and expectant silence, their attention completely captivated by the scene before them.

With a step forward, Rowen Shay’s eyes gleamed with malicious intent, a dark and sinister purpose clearly evident in his expression and hinting at the evil plans he had in mind.

Fuck, this was going to hurt, but I refused to budge.

I sent up a quick prayer that when the coroner carted my dead body out of this fucking place, my brothers would rain down a hellfire the likes of this city had never seen.

“Fuck it. Only live once, right?” I stated, my voice steady while adrenaline surged through my veins as I quickly turned, extending my leg, kicking the side of the motherfucker’s face, knocking him to the ground.

Not wasting time, I jumped on the fucker, punching his face with a power I didn’t realize I had. I didn’t give up because I knew if I failed to win, I would never see Dante again. A swift punch to my kidneys had me grimacing as the fucker bucked me off him, rolling to his feet.

“Alright, kid.” Rowen smirked, wiping his bloody lip with the thumb from his left hand. “Let’s play.”

The next thing I felt was a swift kick of his boot to my ribs, knocking my lungs into my spine.

Spitting up blood, I stumbled to my feet, refusing to back down.

The second I was on my feet, Rowen jabbed, hitting me in the face, breaking my nose.

“FUCK!” I roared, grabbing my nose, before quickly setting the break.

“Say when.” Rowen taunted.

My determination ignited a surge of strength within me, propelling my arm back as I landed a hard punch that sent him reeling. When he turned to look at me, I responded with a triumphant grin, showing a look of satisfaction.

“Yeah, fucker, you’re not the only one who knows how to fucking hit.”

With a vicious growl, Rowen launched his attack, yet my grit remained steadfast and unwavering, refusing to yield to his assault. Relentlessly, we fought, the passage of time unnoticed amidst the brutality, both bloody and bruised, but neither willing to surrender. My resolve was finite, and so was his. I had no intention of leaving without Dante, and he was steadfast in his resolve to ensure that I did not. Mustering every ounceof remaining strength, I managed to wrap my arms securely around Rowen’s neck in a final, desperate embrace. I tightened my grip, arched my back, and pulled him back with all my strength, strangling him until the cold steel of a gun pressed against my head.

Refusing to let go, I heard, “Nuh-uh, motherfucker. This is between them.”

I looked up, my gaze fell upon Payne, who stood directly behind Silas Sharp, a gun pressed menacingly against the back of Sharp’s head.

Crispin Sinclair sighed deeply and rose to his feet, muttering the word “enough” while simultaneously buttoning his suit jacket. “Mr. Franks, you have won Dante. Now, if you would, please release my associate.”

Having shoved the man away, Rowen gasped, his breath coming in ragged, short bursts while he struggled to regain his composure. With my adrenaline pumping and the faces of the onlookers blurring in my vision as I glanced around the room, I saw Dante running to my side.

Seeing the collar still around his neck, I retrieved my switchblade and gave it to Payne, who then proceeded to cut the bothersome leather from his neck. Glaring at Crispin Sinclair, I felt Dante’s strong arms around me as he helped me to my feet, his body offering a supportive embrace.

“He’s mine. Stay the fuck away from him.”

Sinclair simply nodded in silent acknowledgment, as Silas carefully helped Rowen to his feet, the two of them trailing behind Sinclair’s steady gait.

“Jesus fuck, Sypher.” Payne grinned, handing me back my switchblade. “Where the fuck did you learn to fight like that?”

“Three older brothers and a clubhouse full of angry brothers.”

“Thank you for coming for me,” Dante whispered.

Fixing my gaze on the man whose actions would demand considerable explanation when we returned home, I reached out, grabbed the back of his neck, and planted a forceful, public kiss squarely on his lips.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ace

July 23, 2024, Miami, Florida, Trick Pony server room, that same night…

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