Page 73 of Nightmare

The group stops and only Western moves forward until he’s face to face with the man out front. Words are shared, and then, without warning, the man just pulls out a knife. Gasping, I press a hand to my chest as he swings that knife in Western’s direction, aiming straight for his face. Then, as if they’re all thrown into action, everyone moves. Western stops the attack against him, and the two of them fall into a fist fight that is utterly terrifying. The other bikers have all drawn guns, and are pointing them at the remaining men, who stand back, not willing to get shot for whoever their pathetic leader is.

He's not that smart, anyway.

My eyes move back to Western, my heart racing, as I watch him and the other man fall onto the ground, fists flying, dust circling up into the sky and making it harder for me to see. Grunts and growls can be heard, and finally, I catch sight of Western on top of the man, blood dripping from his mouth as he leans over him. He raises a fist and hits him, repeatedly, until the man’s face is bloodied, and he is no longer conscious.

Then, he stands, his eyes fiercely locking onto the men standing behind their leader. I don’t hear what he tells them, but the snarly boom of his voice does echo to my room. Then, he turns, walking away as if nothing has happened. Stopping mid-way back to the house, he looks up and his eyes land on mine. I hold his gaze, my entire body trembling from the events that just unfolded. Spitting blood onto the ground, he stares at me a second longer, before disappearing.

What in the ever-loving hell was that?

~*~*~*~*~

SLIDING A DRINK ACROSSthe bar to a biker, whose name is Venus, I offer him a smile. I’m not working tonight, so I made myself useful by working at this bar instead. After today’s events, I busied myself cleaning this mess of a club house. Hell, I even washed sheets. That was disgusting and I decided that bikers are just nasty. Waving their dicks all around the place and not cleaning their sheets.

“You mix a good drink,” Venus nods, giving me a smile.

He’s an older biker, maybe in his late forties. He’s had a hard life, that much is clear by the sleek lines on his face, his graying hair and the multiple scars that mar his skin. His patch tells me that his position in the club is Treasurer. I’ve been doing some research on all the positions, and I must say I’m quite interested. I wouldn’t mind writing a story about the inner workings of a club.

It's very different to anything I could have ever imagined.

On the outside, they look scary and unapproachable, but on the inside they’re like family. A big, scary, leather-bound family. But family all the same. It’s fascinating, the way they run everything. Everyone has a position, and their position is equally as important as the next. Sure, they’re most definitely doing illegal things, but they’re also some of the most loyal, dedicated men I’ve ever met.

“Thanks,” I respond to Venus with a smile.

“Your accent. You from the south?”

“For a little while, not as long as my accent would indicate, though. It seems to have stuck to me, no matter how hard I try to drown it out.”

“I like it.”

“Why, thank you.”

I get back to work, my eyes scanning the crowd often for Western, but I still haven’t seen him since the fight. I can’t help but wonder if he’s okay. I’m certain he is, but it kills me that he’s not speaking to me. He hasn’t said a single word in my direction since the night I found those frogs and I know he’s angry. Gosh, I don’t blame him, but I wish I could just explain myself.

“Heard you been causin’ trouble in my club.”

Colt’s smooth, gravelly voice comes from behind me, and I turn to see him reaching for a bottle of liquor. I didn’t even hear him come into the bar, and I jerk with shock as I take a step away to better see him. He looks the same as he always does, and he carries himself with that effortless charm that is borderline addictive. If I wasn’t so into Western, I would probably be unable to say no if Colt ever offered himself up to me.

Gosh, who am I kidding?

I’ve seen the women he gets around with.

He wouldn’t be offering me a single damned thing.

“Unfortunately, you heard right,” I answer, giving him a sheepish smile.

He pauses, glancing at me, those eyes raking over my body without apology.

“It was bold of you, to confront someone so powerful.”

“Yes,” I squeak. “Yes, it was. It was also incredibly stupid. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I was just so mad...”

“Anger is somethin’ that you keep concealed at all times. It’ll break you and give you away before logic sets in.”

My cheeks flush and I nod.

“I’m not mad, though. You defendin’ my boy.”

Shocked, I jerk back a little. His words surprising me. Out of everyone, I thought he would have the most to say to me.

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