Laughter erupts behind me, but there’s no humor in it. “Word travels fast.”
“If you didn’t want that to happen, you shouldn’t have shot your president.”
My eyes widen. This sounds bad.
“Hangman doesn’t deserve the president patch. He’s weak,” Shark snarls.
“He survived your pathetic attempt to take him out,” Torque points out.
It’s then that I realize I’m caught in the middle of a biker rivalry. It’s more than that, though. I can tell the man standing behind me is pissed. He’s also agitated, unable to remain still as he shifts from foot to foot, his boots squeaking with the movement on the floor.
Torque glances at me, and I notice he doesn’t have a reaction. There’s no acknowledgement or indication that I mean anything to him. Is that on purpose?
“What do you want?” Torque demands.
“Retribution. Your club took from me, so I’ll take from you.”
I don’t know what that means. My mind rapidly tries to figure out what’s happening when I’m yanked backward, and the gun presses against my temple.
“I’ll start with this bitch.”
Torque shrugs. “Go ahead. She’s old news. Club pussy. No hardship to us.”
“Right. That’s why she was waiting for you.”
“Yeah. I was gonna fuck her and kick her ass out. She doesn’t mean shit to me.”
I know it’s a lie, but the words still sting. I flinch, and the reaction tips off Shark.
“Nice try. She’s not a sweet butt.”
Torque relaxes. “Yeah? Take her. I’m not going to stop you. Don’t have a problem with your club either. Murder fucked with Bullseye, and he got what was coming to him. Had nothing to do with me.”
He’s stalling. I can tell. I’m just not sure what Torque is planning.
The grip on my neck tightens as Shark’s hand closes around my throat. “Then I’ll just fuck her, right here in front of you.”
That’s when Torque loses it. His upper lip curls as he lunges toward Shark.
I decide I have to act before this escalates further. Shark can’t see what I’m doing, and I use his distraction with Torque to carefully pop off the lid from the coffee. It’s steaming and still hot. I only have one chance at this, and I lift my arm, flinging the liquid over my shoulder where I believe Shark’s face is located.
There’s a horrible screech as the hot coffee splashes him, some of it landing on me, but not nearly as much. The gun clatters to the ground as I see Torque dive toward Shark and tackle him. They collide as the gun clatters to the floor. I kickit out of the way and brush the coffee from my neck and hair, hoping it didn’t burn me. I’m too wound up with adrenaline right now to notice.
Torque slams his fist into Shark’s face, and I hear the crunch of bone. Blood pours from his nose as my biker hauls Shark to his feet. He adds a few more punches until Shark begs him to stop.
“Pick up the gun and bring it to me, baby.”
I don’t want to touch it, but I obey Torque and pick it up by the handle. “Here.” I step back as Torque aims it at Shark.
“Reach into my cut. I’ve got zip ties inside the pocket on the left side.”
My fingers tremble as I stand in front of him, sliding into the pocket as I feel for the hard plastic. As soon as I take them out, he nods.
“Good girl.”
The praise is unexpected, but I feel warm and squishy when he tells me.
“I’m going to hand you the gun, and you’re going to aim at his head. If he tries to resist, shoot him.”
