Page 522 of Hell Hath No Fury
Lots of big guys with violent tempers.
But not a lot of brains.
Which was what I was banking on for getting Bear out.
“Don’t let the door hit you on the ass,” Dick called as I made it to the front door.
“Hey, wait, maybe I want a piece of that ass, now that Bear won’t be enjoying it anymore,” another voice called.
I didn’t turn to see who said it.
It didn’t matter.
I knew enough about bad men to know that it was mostly truth said “in jest,” and they were just testing the waters to see if they could get away with it or not, if you’d roll over and take it or not.
I made my way out the front door calmly, casually, then hauled ass to my car, locking the doors as soon as I slid into the driver’s seat.
I don’t think I truly understood the threat that Bear’s club was to me. Because, up until this night, I’d always been under the protection of Bear himself.
Men like Dick and the others, they only respected a woman for her attachment to a man. So, Bear claiming me, that meant that I was left alone, that no one grabbed my ass or said creepy shit to me.
But with him gone, I was fair game.
I didn’t doubt that any one of them would hold me down and force themselves on me if they wanted something I wasn’t offering up.
I floored it out of the driveway, making my way across town and back to my own apartment where I found my tightest, tit-forward, practically labia-revealing dress, went heavy on the smoky eye and red lipstick, then found my biggest purse that didn’t make it look like I was hauling a bunch of illegal weapons with me.
I wanted to bring the micro, very illegal, submachine gun, the thing that could rain bullets at a clubhouse full of bad guys who would want me dead if they caught me, but only after they all took turns abusing me first, likely making Bear watch before killing him as well.
It wasn’t the smartest option, of course. It would be loud. It would draw attention. The cops would likely be called. But if quieter methods didn’t work, at least I knew I had it as a backup.
“You can do this,” I assured the tarted-up version of myself in the mirror as I slipped in some big silver hoops to complete the look. “It’s Bear,” I added, seeing the way my eyes warmed even at the thought of him.
The man who changed everything.
The man I wasn’t entirely sure I could live without.
It was worth risking losing my life to try to save his.
If we were going down, we were going to go down together.
That was the deal you made when you offered your heart and soul to a man who not only wanted the gift, but cherished it, protected it, nurtured it.
Everyone who threatened that was going to pay.
Taking a steadying breath, I reached up under my micro-mini skirt, slipping a knife into the garter around my thigh, the cool metal warming immediately against my skin as my mind flashed back to the evening of the day I’d purchased it.
And for a moment, Bear was with me again, his lips pressing against my knee, then blazing a heated path upward, the scruff of his face sending trembles through my system as he worked his way upward until he found the garter. He’d snagged it with his teeth then drew it all the way down and off my body before going between my thighs and settling there, taking up camp there for what felt like hours, bringing me to the cliff and throwing me over several times before he finally slammed inside of me.
Bear.
I could do anything for him.
Grabbing another knife, I slipped it into my bra, then checked the guns before tucking them into my purse. It was a tight fit, but it wasn’t like I needed to bring anything else with me on a rescue mission.
I didn’t love guns. I had a complicated history with them.
But I’d use one if I had to.
