Page 9 of Hateful Union

I shake my head, it pains me to say this. “No, tomorrow will come and he’ll have to do more shit that’ll take him further from us.”

Tears shine in Gabby’s eyes. “I hate this. I hate this life.”

She’s not the only one. We’ve both had to deal with the shit that this life brings us. Only Gabby knows the full extent that I’ve had to deal with. Being the daughter of the leader is hard. I’m now distrustful and closed off.

An argument breaks out an hour later and the jostling starts. This is the sign that it’s time for us to go. Gabby and I reach for our drinks, her grin no doubt matches mine. We clink our glasses together and then bring the glasses to our lips and down the liquor.

I reach for Gabby’s hand and pull her to her feet, just as Mayer rams his fist into one of the guys that’s standing by the table who had been up until a second ago, arguing with him.

I shake my head and sigh. “One night, Mayer, Jesus, can’t we go one night without you getting into a fight?”

His eyes shine with anger and excitement. Ah, something I haven’t seen in a while. Whatever the arsehole who’s currently sprawled on the floor said to him, has pissed him off. Great, just what Gabby and I need to deal with tonight. An angry Mayer is never good.

“Shit,” Gabby curses as she tugs on my arm and pulls me out of the booth. “It’s time for us to leave,” she shouts loud enough so that both Mayer and I can hear her.

That’s when I see the four men making their way over to us. Men that I know are here because they are enemies of my father. Their gaze solely focused on me, their eyes filled with hatred. Thankfully, there’s a lot of people they’ll have to get past before they can reach me.

“Mayer,” I yell and nod my head in their direction. The anger that the men have in their eyes has me tensing. God, one night. Just one night without having to deal with other people’s bullshit.

I watch as my best friend’s eyes narrow and then his expression goes vacant. This is why he’s joined my father’s ranks. He’s a cold-blooded killer. Gone is the little boy who used to spend his weekends playing with Gabby and I, following us around and having fun. Instead, he’s rarely around, and anytime he is, he’s angry and distant. He could be next to me and yet, it’s as though he’s in a different country.

“It’s time to go,” he instructs as he clamps his hand around my arm and tugs tight as he pushes past the people in the bar. “No matter what happens, Ray, you do not fucking give them a chance to take you.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” I demand to know as soon as we’re outside in the open. I’m seriously wondering if he’s lost a couple of screws? Why would I ever give them an opportunity to take me?

“Because, Ray, they want you. They want revenge and I’m the only one that’s standing in their way.” His voice is soft, reminding me so much of the boy that I grew up with.

Gabby gasps as what he says hits us.

I shake my head. “No,” I tell him, my voice hoarse as my throat clogs up. I rip my arm from his clutches just as the door opens behind me. “Fuck that, I will not stand by and watch you get hurt. Just as you wouldn’t do it with Gabs and I.” I can’t and won’t ever do that.

His jaw ticks. “Raylee, I get it, I really do, but I am pleading with you, get in the car and go.”

I stare at him dead in the eye. “No.” I will not fucking leave him. “Please don’t make me,” I whisper to him, begging with him to not make me leave him.

He sighs as he scrubs a hand down his face. “Your family is going to kill me.”

I shrug. “Not my problem, they’d lose their mind either way,” I say, knowing no matter what’s going to happen here, there’ll be hell to pay.

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a knife. He hands it to Gabby, “Only if they come at you,” he tells her and her hands tremble as she takes it from him, but gives him a nod, indicating that she heard him.

“Something wrong?” The gravelly rumble has my heart racing.

I spin around and face him. The fucking arsehole has a smirk etched on his face. He’s enjoying this.

Before any of us can answer Malcolm, the door to the bar opens and the four men make their way out. “Hand her over, Mayer, this doesn’t concern you.”

Mayer, ever protective and never likes to be told what to do, scoffs. “That’s where you’re wrong. I ain’t handing her over to you, and if you want her, you’ll have to go through me.”

The men instantly rush at Mayer, of course, the arsehole that is Malcolm doesn’t intervene, he just watches as the men punch, kick, and hurt my friend.

“Stop,” I yell and take a step forwards, trying to get this madness to stop. I never want anyone to get hurt because of me. That’s something I will never allow. “Leave him alone.” Panic claws at me, needing to get to him, wanting to protect him.

The air is knocked from my lungs as an arm clamps around my stomach and pulls me backwards. “Don’t.” The harsh warning is said low and against my ear.

“Fuck you,” I fire back as I claw at the bastards arms. I kick at his legs, but it’s no use. He has me in a vice grip.

I swallow past the fear that’s clogging my throat and try my best to hold the tears that are threatening to fall at bay. My gaze firmly on the man that’s been a constant throughout my entire life. The man that has protected me. As he’s doing now.