“Guilty,” I grumbled.
“No one here will hurt you, sweetheart.”
“I’m good right here.”
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed, walking away and yelling, “Wyatt!”
“Don’t fuckin’ bellow at my woman like that,” another gruff voice yelled back.
“Oh, keep your pants on,” a feminine voice ordered, and a gorgeous blonde appeared before me. “What’s up, bud?”
“Sabrina here’s scared shitless to come inside.”
The woman turned to me and gave me a gentle smile. “Sabrina?”
I nodded.
“I’m Wyatt.” She walked toward me, her hand held out. “I’m sure these men seem intimidating, but they’re actually really nice. You’re welcome to come in. My husband, Sundance, is the president.”
“What the actual fuck?” Stoney snapped, and I glanced at him.
He was reading the letter.
Shit.
“I’ll just wait,” I whispered.
“Bitch, you need to get your ass inside.”
“Stoney—”
“Stay outta this, Wyatt,” he sneered, glaring at me. “You. Get inside. You’ve got some explainin’ to do.”
“No.” I blinked back tears. “I can’t. I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.”
Stoney started toward me, but Wyatt reached for his arm.
That’s when all hell broke loose. Stoney pulled his arm away so fast, Wyatt lost her balance, and then the biggest man I’d ever seen was on top of Stoney, his hand at his throat. “What the fuck are you doin’, asshole? She’s pregnant.”
“Sorry, Wyatt,” Stoney coughed.
“Thorne,”Wyatt said, laying her hand on the big man’s shoulder. “Honey, let him go. I’m okay.”
“This was a mi...mistake,” I stuttered. “I’m going to go.”
“Don’t fuckin’ move,” Stoney ordered, still flat on his back.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have come.” I made a run for my car, but a strong, beefy arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me hard against him.
“I said, don’t fuckin’ move.”
“Oh, god,” I squeaked, terrified. “I need to go.”
“No. You’re gonna explain the letter,” he growled.
“Since I don’t know what’s in the letter, I can’t explain it, can I?” I retorted, my fear dissipating partly because Wyatt had started laughing.
“Bitch—”
