Straightening my shoulders, I hold my chin high and vow to myself that these pricks aren’t going to get the better of me. Notafter everything I’ve been through. I didn’t survive that just for these motherfuckers to take me out.
“Do what you’ve gotta do, I’ve got shit to do,” I warn.
I loosen my grip on Princess’s leash. I can’t see the two pricks behind me, but I listen hard for any steps being taken as I keep my eye on the two in front of me.
It occurs to me I have my gun on me, but if I start letting off shots, it’s going to attract attention the club doesn’t need.
My last fist fight was when I was in high school but it’s like riding a bike, your muscle memory doesn’t forget.
I don’t know if it’s the darkness making this feel more menacing than it is, but my heart is pounding, and their slowness is throwing me off.
Predators circling me but I’m not going to be the prey this time. Fuck this. If they’re going to take their sweet time before making a move, I’ll do it for them.
Releasing Princess, he goes on the attack to our front while I spin on my heel and start swinging my fists.
I catch one prick on his jaw, and he stumbles back. I jump straight on the other and throw my fists one after the other. Keeping my senses open around me, I hear one of them cry out, yelling for someone to help get the dog off of him. While they’re distracted by the dog, I throw punches as fast as I can, not giving the two I’m dealing with a chance to get close to me. A car horn blasts somewhere off in the distance then I hear her urgent voice. I need to get out of here. I need to getherout of here. I pull out my gun and the two pricks back up and run off down the street.
I turn and Princess is mauling the shit out of another prick’s leg and his friend is warily trying to come up from behind, a flick knife in his hand.
Fuck me, if he hurts Victoria’s dog in any way, Luca will slice my balls off. I close the distance and press the tip to the back of his head.
“Run and live. Don’t, you die,” I grunt, breathlessly.
He holds his hands up, and the knife drops from his hand and lands by my feet on the ground. I kick it out into the road and watch him run.
“Princess!” I yell sternly.
It takes a few moments, but the dog comes back to my side, blood dripping from his mouth. I crouch beside the guy writhing on the ground like a pussy.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Fuck you!” he moans.
“Ford!”
What the fuck is she doing here?
Police sirens fill the air, and I stand. I grab at Princess’s leash and head for Phoebe’s car.
“This ain’t over, biker!”
Shoving Princess in the back, I fall into the front seat. “Drive!”
She slams her foot on the gas and the back wheels spin before we pull off.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demand.
Her hands tremble on the wheel and in her fear, she drives through the stop light. I don’t know why but I laugh.
“I was so angry with you. I was coming to yell at you.” She glances at me, then shrieks, “Are you laughing at me?”
I wipe the smile from my face and shake my head.
“I’ll take you yelling at me over ignoring me.”
She looks over her shoulder and tells me, “Your dog is dripping blood all over my seats!”
“Don’t freak out. I’ll clean it.”
