Page 9 of Being Us (Next Generation 4)

“From who?” I took a step toward them. “I have nothing you want.” The closer I got to them, the more I recognized them. They weren’t part of Devil’s Rejects. Or if they were, they were new. Because they weren’t part of it when I was president. But they were at the time, part of a puppet club. I had them do the shittiest jobs possible. Maybe that was the reason for this. “Listen, whatever I had you do, you know that most clubs make puppet clubs do their dirty work.”

“Oh.” The man leaning against the wall held his hand out in front of him. “You see, we don’t actually give a shit about that anymore.”

“Then what the hell do you want? And get your hands off of my fucking dog.” I had enough of this shit. Trigger looked like he was out for blood, which I knew he was. But I didn’t like the rough hold the fucker had on him.

“You think I’m stupid?” The man’s arm tightened around Trigger. “This dog may be old, but I know that he could still rip out my throat.”

“What do you want?” I was getting sick of this back and forth shit. Either they told me what they wanted or I was going to shove this pipe up their asses.

“Tommy sends his love.”

Before I could question him, he lifted his hand and plunged a knife deep into Trigger’s side.

He let out a loud whimper.

The sound forced me forward. I ignored the bile rising to my throat and rushed to them, not caring in the least that there was another fucker nearby. I had one goal in mind.

To save my damn dog.

Bee

LIVING WITH MEN HADits hardships at times. Especially when I went out partying with friends and my ass got picked up by my two scowling cousins.

They were sitting in the front seat of their SUV, lecturing me and telling me how dangerous men were these days.

While they continued on with their tirade, all I could focus on was the alcohol gurgling in my belly. How much did I even drink?

My phone dinged from somewhere in the distance but even the sound was loud enough that it pounded into my skull.

“Bee.”

I looked up, finding Sammy staring back at me. His dark eyes which mirrored his twin brother’s, narrowed in the middle. Cyrus continued driving us to my place, glancing at me every so often in the rearview mirror.

“You need to stop doing this shit,” Sammy said, pointing a finger at me.

“Yeah, because you’ve never done it yourself. Why is it okay for you guys to go out partying but I can’t?” I could only assume I got the words out. But in my head, they sounded like a jumbled mess.

When Sammy’s brows narrowed even more, I knew that I definitely got the words out.

“It’s okay to party but when we show up and find you grinding against a fucker more than half your age older than you, that’s when it’s not okay.” Sammy continued to stare at me, probably waiting for me to argue. But I was too tired. Since my fun was ruined, I just wanted my bed. And the guy wasn’t that much older than me.

“My dad is older than my mom,” I mumbled. “Why is it okay for them?”

“Because they are adults,” Cyrus threw in. “Youare acting like a damn child.”

“I am not.” I pouted. Okay, maybe I was but truth was, I was twenty-three and inexperienced. In every sense of the word. I had been watched my whole life and lived under my father’s thumb. Hell, under every man’s thumb who had taken on the role of being my impromptu uncle since I was born. Not that I wasn’t grateful for the extra protection, seeing as my father was part of a motorcycle club, but they needed to let me live a little. Which had been what I was trying to do tonight until Cyrus and Sammy showed up.

“Don’t pout.” Sammy held back a smile.

I sighed.

“We hitting the club after we drop her off?” Sammy asked his brother.

Cyrus only grunted.

My head whipped around. “Take me with you.”

Sammy chuckled. “No.”

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