Page 36 of Sparrow's Grace

Before I could rip his ass a new one for that statement and realize Zeke was right, everyone had gone from joking and being carefree to an amount of tension in the room that could be sliced with a butter knife.

“Outside. Fucking now,” I heard Zeke growl out, and then he stood, and without a backward glance he stalked out of the room. However, when I expected him to throw open the door, instead, I heard his boots pounding on the rich dark floors back to me.

When he made it to me, he pressed a kiss to my temple, and then he stormed out of the clubhouse. And this time, he threw the door open so hard that it banged into the wall with a sudden thwack.

Savage shook his head, stood, then started popping his knuckles as he followed Zeke outside and then shut the door.

The room didn’t take too long to react.

All at once, the men followed Zeke and Monroe outside, and then when the last one followed through the door, I turned my head to look at Harlow.

“What the hell just happened?” I asked her.

“Monroe was trying to be good-natured, but, well, he ended the comment, and it made Zeke look like a fucking fool.”

For some reason, that had my spine straightening and my temper flaring.

I got up and then followed the men.

“Umm, where do you think you’re going?” Mackenzie called behind my back.

I looked at her over my shoulder and said, “No one makes Zeke look like a fool.”

Then I opened the door to see the men standing shoulder to shoulder as Zeke beat the hell out of Monroe.

And I looked to my right and saw a lone fold-up metal chair.

I grabbed it, flattened it, and calmly walked over to them. I knew the men spotted me, but then Zeke saw me, and when he dropped his hands, I brought the chair back, and then with all my might, I slammed it into Monroe’s back.

He stumbled and then whipped his head around and looked at me, pain etched on his face, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“No one makes him look like a fool, least of all you.” Then I dropped the chair, and headed back into the clubhouse, back to my chair, and sat down.

That slap wore me out.

I hadn’t realized that the women had followed me, not until Harlow asked, “Please tell me someone got that on video.”

Greek smiled and then nodded.

Zeke came in moments later, and I called out, “Grab some alcohol and some cotton pads, then come to me so I can clean your hands.”

But he didn’t do it.

No, he came to me, wrapped his hand around the back of my neck, and then… slammed his lips to mine.

And I swore that as our lips moved, our tongues danced, that the entire world melted away and it was only the two of us remaining.

I wasn’t sure how long we stayed locked like that but needing to breathe, I pulled away, and then with my eyes closed, his forehead pressed to mine.

There, he whispered, “I will never berate you for defending me, baby. But next time, do me a favor. While you're pregnant at least, tell one of the men to grab the chair and then you tell him what body part you want him to hit. Okay? Because I swear, you’ll see a side of me you never want to if any of them retaliate and hit you.”

I nodded.

But he wasn’t finished. He repeated the words he said to me earlier at his house, “You need time to heal, going to give you that. When you're ready, I’ll know. Then I’ll make my move.”

That was when what he told me just a few moments ago flew out the proverbial window, as I asked, “Was that your move?”

He shook his head, “No, Angel, that was me showing my interest.”

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