Page 22 of Bound by Family
Bristyl is arguing with the guys from the way her hands are moving, along with her head. I can only see the back of it, but it reminds me of my mom when she’s giving shit to my dad.
I climb the risers and get right behind Bristyl. “There a problem here?”
Bristyl turns abruptly, breaths coming in surprised pants. I don’t take my eyes from the guys in front of me, though, no matter how much I’d rather look at her.
“Cooper,” she whispers so softly I don’t think she meant to say it out loud, and damn, it’s so sensuous that my cock hardens.
“These are our bitches. Go find your own.” The asshole has his hand wrapped around Bristyl’s friend so tightly his knuckles are white. He rises, taking her with him, and she screeches, trying to pull her arm from his grasp as he begins to pull her away from Bristyl.
Bristyl moves so damn fast I can’t even catch her. One second she’s in front of me. The next, she’s between the asshole and her friend, full-on biting the guy’s arm.
“Holy fuck,” Green says from behind me.
The asshole pulls back, letting go of the friend and lifting his other hand, ready to strike Bristyl across the face. It’s my turn to be quick.
Grabbing Bristyl, I maneuver her behind me and slug the guy in the gut, then in the jaw. He staggers back. I hear my brothers behind me, no doubt taking on the other two.
“What’s going on?” my father asks, coming up and grabbing the punk by the collar.
“Assholes are putting their hands on women who don’t want to be touched,” I tell him.
“Let’s move this away from prying eyes.”
The crowd is all in for a fight, amped up on the energy, feeding off our conflict. Fuck, this could turn seriously bad. Nothing worse than a rally full of bikers who turn all out for blood. Too many dead bodies and way too many fucking questions.
“Bristyl, you and your friend follow us.”
She nods, wrapping her arm around her friend as we lug the three assholes down the bleachers and out the back way. We get quite a few stares, so Dagger jokes with some of the onlookers, putting them at ease. Never met a man who could simmer shit down like that man. I tried to pick up that skill, but haven’t quite mastered it yet.
“Talk,” Pops says, coming up to my side as I toss the asshole to the ground. Rhys blocks him from going anywhere, making me regret how we aren’t on our home turf.
“Asshole was putting his hands on the girls. Wouldn’t leave ’em alone.”
“And this is our business why?” he asks, looking down at the two girls who are sitting on a small bench. Bristyl has her arms around her friend, holding her as she cries. Bristyl doesn’t cry, though. No, she has fire burning in her eyes. Anger. Revenge. Damn, that gets me hard.
“Know her. She helped us out at the laundromat.”
“And still, Coop, this has nothing to do with us. Bringin’ shit to our door that doesn’t need to be.”
I look to my grandfather, my president, staring into his eyes, not sure what I’m trying to tell him, but his eyes flash in some type of recognition.
“Son of a motherfucker. Alright,” he says, lifting his hand and spinning his finger. “Can’t do much, too many eyes. Just make sure they get the fuck out of here. I’ll talk to their prez.”
This is Ravage. I may not have fallen in line according to our lifestyle, but the club takes my back whether I’m right or wrong.
Buzz, Breaker, Tug, Becs, and GT “help” the guys out as I move over to Bristyl, who hasn’t taken her eyes off the dickheads as they leave.
“Green.” I nod over to the girl. He’s always been good with emotional women.
He makes his move over to them, and Bristyl turns her angry gaze on him. I want to laugh because she looks like she’s about to pounce on Green, and that shit would be funny. Not that he couldn’t hold his own, but it’d still be funny for her to try.
I move up. “Bristyl, come here so I can find out what happened.”
She surveys the situation, but doesn’t leave her friend’s side. Gotta respect her loyalty.
“Promise nothin’s gonna happen to her,” Pops says, coming closer.
Her eyes dart to him, then down to his rag. She’s no doubt seeing the word “President,” but it’s a toss-up on which way she’ll go.
