Page 18 of Grimm
“You have some goddamn nerve showing your face around here, bitch!” His tanned skin darkened with anger as he stalked toward me, rage encasing his face. Fear ran rampant through my entire body. “I should fucking kill you where you stand.”
“Woah, Youngblood,” one of the men said, a smidgen of an accent heard in his plea. The other man looked confused, trying to grab Colin by the arm to restrain him. “Calm down, man.”
Colin “Youngblood” MacDaniel, Tavish’s younger brother, started prospecting with the club when he turned nineteen and became a member of Sin City by the age of twenty. Like Tavish, he’d been immersed in motorcycle culture since an early age.
Too young.
Danger, lawlessness, and God knew what else had surrounded Tavish and Colin while little boys their age should have been playing Little League or soccer with their friends. It was hard to imagine what they’d experienced if the clubhouse culture back then was anything like what I’d seen—women walking around naked and willing to do anything they were asked by men who didn’t give two shits about them.
Colin was ill-tempered like his father, his ruthlessness only surpassed by Angus and Tavish. He was not someone I wanted to have a run-in with, in the middle of the night, in the desert. Like now.
Where the hell is Tavish?
Colin snatched out of the man’s grasp and raced toward me, his skin turning a deep shade of crimson.
“Grimm!” the man yelled, panic in his voice and eyes as he tried to stop Colin again. But Colin shook him off, almost pushing him to the ground. “Get your ass out here, now!”
Oh shit!
My eyes widened when I realized no one could stop him before he reached me. My fight-or-flight instincts kicked in. Scrambling backward, I fumbled with the handle of my car door, but I wasn’t quick enough. He stood in front of me before I reached the safety of my car, his grip so tight on my arm, he’d leave bruises on my dark skin.
“Get your damn hands off me!” I screamed, which only seemed to agitate him further. What did he expect? For me to stand here and not try to get away from him? To take whatever punishment he wanted to give me for doing my damn job?
I tried to pull from his grasp again, but he tightened his grip the more I struggled. An agonizing pain shot up my arm, but I bit back the scream itching to come out. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt me in any kind of way.
He blocked my attempt when I tried to knee him in the nuts. Then I swung with my free hand to punch him, hoping to stun him so he’d at least loosen his grip. He caught my wrist instead, squeezing to the point where I knew if I didn’t get away from him, he’d sprain or snap it.
“What?” Tavish yelled, his heavy footfalls sounding on the polished concrete floor of the garage.
I’d never been so relieved to see him. Although Colin was manhandling me, Tavish’s presence quelled some of the anger and fear surging through me. When my eyes landed on his, shock then rage crossed his features as he looked from me to his brother. He raced toward us, yanked his brother away from me, and punched him in the stomach then the face.
The assault only intensified once he let me go. Like a man possessed, Tavish hit him over and over again. Colin was no match for his brother’s fury. Blood poured from Colin’s mouth. A large gash opened above his left eye, dripping blood down his face. His nose, now curved to the left, spewed even more blood down his chin, landing on the stained white T-shirt he wore.
“Tavish! Stop!” I yelled, but my pleas were ignored. “Stop him!”
I looked to the other men for help, hoping they would step in, but they kept their distance and watched with expressionless faces as their president beat the shit out of his flesh and blood.
Of course, they won’t stop him. Tavish is their president. They’ll only do what he says and not interfere, even if he’s killing someone.
Colin crumpled to the ground, unable to withstand his brother’s onslaught of punches. He looked like he went twelve rounds with Mike Tyson and lost. Both eyes were black, swelling shut and bloodied from the many hits delivered without mercy. The large gash above his eye needed stitches, and his nose would have to be reset.
Colin grunted from the swift boot Tavish landed in his stomach and curled up on the ground.
Shit! I hope those aren’t steel-toed.
Hopefully, Tavish didn’t crack his ribs.
“Tavish!” I yelled his name again over the grunts and sounds of skin hitting skin. “Stop! He’s your brother. You’re going to kill him!”
His head jerked toward me, and the fury in his eyes made me take a step back. I’d seen murderous rage in men’s eyes, and many times, it had been aimed at me. But I’d never felt terror until Tavish’s gaze landed on me. Tavish was gone, and Grimm stood in his place.
His gaze shifted back to his brother. “Don’t youeverput your fucking hands on her again!” He pointed at Colin, his jaw clenched so tightly he’d break a damn tooth from the pressure if he didn’t calm down.
A glob of bloody spit landed in the dirt at Tavish’s feet. “Fuck you, Tav.” Colin’s unrecognizable words didn’t faze Tavish. With the back of his hand, he wiped the blood from his mouth, then pointed at me. “Thatbitchput Angus in prison, and you beat the shit out of me because of her? You should’ve already taken her to the desert and buried her with the rest of the trash!”
I gasped, and Colin smirked, his teeth stained with blood. The rumors that he’d bury people in the desert if they crossed him or Sin City were true.
“Watch your damn mouth, little brother, before I cut your fucking tongue out,” Tavish sneered. “You do some shit like this again, I promise on Mama’s life, on everything I fucking own, I won’t go so easy on you next time.”
