Page 52 of Dragon Strife
“Where is that little bitch?” Malik asks as he looks around the room, finally taking his eyes off Kennedy. “Did he run away?” He sounds like he’s salivating for a chase, his predatory instincts cutting in.
“Let’s take this into another room and discuss it,” Laith suggests as he tries to diffuse the situation. He’s so unlike his brother, it shocks me.
“Is it okay if I go check out Kennedy?” I ask Genevieve. “I know he’s being an asshole, but if you want to win this club over, there are going to be times you have to show compassion,” I advise her gently.
Her jaw sets in a hard line as her gaze shifts between Kennedy and Chino, giving them both looks of utter hatred and disgust, but after some thought, she gives me a small, subtle nod.
“Can we talk about this?” Chino asks as he raises his hands. “I want what’s best for the Steel Dragons. You have to understand that. That’s the way it’s always been for me.”
“Oh, I know, Quinton.” Genevieve laughs, the sound lacking any humor. “I’ve experienced your devotion to this club firsthand, wouldn’t you say?”
I step out from behind the counter and head toward Kennedy, stopping only to place my hand on Malik’s shoulder. His muscle beneath my palm is quaking with barely restrained anger. “Put the gun away, brother,” I say very quietly as Genevieve and Chino continue bickering. “A shoot-out is dangerous. Anyone of us could have been killed.”
His knuckles whiten as he tightens his hold on the gun held by his waist, but he finally moves to tuck it back into his pants. I give his shoulder another squeeze and then head for the man who is panting on the floor, his hand gripping his shoulder. Malik was about three inches off from his heart and I know he did that purposefully. If he wanted Kennedy dead, the man would be sporting a hole between his eyes.
I bend down and move Kennedy’s cut away from his wound and rip open his shirt to get a better look at the entry of the bullet. It looks as though the bullet went clean through, and when I turn him to his side and check, I find the exit wound. He’s in too much pain to fight me off, either that or he realizes I’m the only one here able to help him.
“Looks like you’ll survive. You should probably thank Malik for not actually wanting to kill you, because trust me, if he wanted to, you’d be dead,” I inform the moaning man on the floor. “Do you have a medical unit?” I look up and ask Quinton, his eyes still shooting daggers at Genevieve. Looks like his guilt has taken a back burner.
“Yeah, we can call Cash.” He finally looks down at me with a nod, reaching his hand into his pocket for his phone.
“Oh, yes!” Genevieve calls out as she slaps the gun back to the counter of the bar and claps her hands slowly. “Please call Cash. He and I also need to have a very thorough discussion.”
“You and you.” I point to two young Dragons and then down at Kennedy. “Get him up off the floor and into the medical unit. I will follow you there.” When they don’t move right away, I stand up and shrug my shoulders. “Or we can let him die. I really don’t give a fuck.”
“I vote to let him die,” Genevieve suggests loudly as Malik snorts. I turn to give her a look over my shoulder, hoping she remembers what I said to her in the midst of her rage. She rolls her eyes but decides to keep her mouth shut.
“How long are we here for, Slayer?” Malik asks as Genevieve moves to stand beside him, his arm snaking around her waist. “This club has a tendency to play Russian Roulette with its Presidents. I don’t feel comfortable here.”
Quinton slowly clears out the room, sending all the other Dragons out while shooting angry looks constantly at Genevieve. It’s not hard to see how he feels about her, and I’m struck with a multitude of emotions. The most prominent is jealousy because if she hated him as much as she is trying to portray, I truly believe he would have been dead before Malik and I arrived. The next is pity. I’d hate to know what it feels like to be in love with someone and have them hate you so publicly. It must feel like it’s impossible to rebuild that bridge he so callously destroyed. Finally, I feel like none of those feelings would make a difference in the end, not that I would voice them, but if Genevieve wanted to add Chino into our equation, I wouldn’t stand in the way. I want her to be happy and she deserves it after everything she's been through. I think sharing her with Malik has really opened up my perspective about monogamy and relationships.
The two Dragons lift a distressed Kennedy off the floor and move out of the room with him hobbling between them as I follow closely behind. My eyes swing to Genevieve, but her sight is still zeroed in on Chino, those dark blues narrowed with fury.
“Why don’t you take her to my room to clean up?” Laith suggests to Malik. “She can’t be comfortable in that.”
“You’re not coming,” Malik snaps back, then calls out to Genevieve. “Come on, little pony, let Daddy clean the barn off of you.” He grabs her gun from the bar and tucks it into his cut.
I chuckle quietly as I leave the room, hoping I don’t come back to utter chaos and bodies. The way to the Dragons’ medical is pretty simple and easy to remember, and I made sure to memorize the layout during the short trek.
“Lay him on the bed and remove his cut and shirt. I will need a scalpel and stitching,” I list off as I pull off my own cut and search for gloves.
“What is that?” I hear one whisper to the other, and I nearly pull a Malik and shoot them both, instead, I take a deep breath in through my nose and focus on my near-depleted patience.
“A little knife-looking thing and a needle and thread, and I would hurry up or your bastard of a brother here will bleed out and die. I don’t care either way,” I bark, making them move into action.
“You do understand what will happen to your precious Dragon Slayer if she’s hurt our President, right?” Kennedy asks as he looks up at me, his eyes looking glassy with blood loss. “It’ll be her first battle with an MC. She won’t survive.”
“Oh, shut up,” I say as I shove a finger into his wound, making him scream and then pass out from the pain. “That’s better.”
Laith opens a door and motions for us to go in. I give my slayer another quick once-over, then tuck her foul-smelling body into mine, knowing she needs the comfort. I’m pretty sure she stinks of piss, and as soon as my cunt brother leaves the room, I will be drilling her about what actually went down here.
“Get out!” I shout at him and he has the nerve to hesitate while looking over my woman. “Did I fucking stutter? Should I redecorate your room with your blood and brains?” I tense and wait for the impending fight, knowing it will leave one of us dead on the floor. It’s been brewing for a while now.
“Laith, please give us some space,” Slayer pleads, exhaustion lining her words.
“Okay.” He nods, his face softening for her. “We need to discuss things soon.” Then he steps out and closes the door.
As soon as thesnickfills the room, she collapses against me and begins to sob, her shoulders bouncing with the force. I quickly pick her up in my arms and head to the bathroom. The rooms are similar to ours over at the March compound. Small, compact, and with an even smaller bathroom.
