My anger spikes, not just at her but at the timing and the way she’s making this worse. “Enough,” I snap, my voice hard. “Show some fucking respect.”
Her eyes widen, hurt flashing across her face, but I hold her stare, my chest heaving. Because right now, she doesn’t understand. Axel’s word is law, and if she pushes him, there’s nothing I can do to stop him reacting in any way he sees fit.
Her eyes glisten, but instead of backing down, she lifts her chin. “Of course,” she spits, her voice shaking. “Your stupid club means more than me. Everything we just shared, undone, because your loyalties will always be to him.”
The words cut sharper than she knows, and my temper snaps. “Watch your mouth,” I snarl, grabbing her arm. Before she can wriggle free, I shove her back through the office doorway and slam it shut in her face. Her fists pound against the wood.
“Don’t you dare lock me in here,” she screams, her voice breaking. “Logan, I mean it, open the fucking door!”
I brace my palm against it, jaw clenched, every bang rattling through me. Christ, she’s like a wild thing caged. The sound of her fists hammering the wood claws at my insides.
Axel’s voice cuts through, rough and final. “Sort it out, Shadow, or get rid of her.”
I drag in a breath, shoulders heaving as I glance back at him. His eyes are flinty, hard.
“You know the rules,” he says flatly. “Three strikes, and she’s already on two. First was stealing from my club. Now, this. I won’t have her tearing holes in my house.”
I grind my teeth, torn clean in two. Part of me wants to march in there, drag Remi into my arms, and tell her it’s all okay and to calm down. The other part knows Axel’s right, that trouble in the club doesn’t just go away.
Behind the door, her fists keep banging, her voice hoarse from shouting my name.
I give a slight nod, and he grips my shoulder, giving it a squeeze as he passes to head back upstairs.
I inhale deeply then push the door open. Remi stumbles back, her face wet with tears. She runs for the opening, but I catch her, wrapping one arm around her waist and dragging her against me while she kicks and screams to break free.
“Stop,” I growl in her ear. She doesn’t even hear me as she claws at my arm. “Remi, stop,” I say, harder this time, as I grab her wrist, tugging her arm up her back and guiding her to the desk. I push her face down. “Relax and I’ll let you go.”
“Fuck you,” she screams, kicking back and catching my shin.
“I can’t release you until you stop this fucking insanity,” I growl, taking hold of her other arm as she tries to grab a pair of scissors off the desk. I pin her, my legs keeping hers apart, my hands holding her wrists. “Get it under control, Rem,” I order.
“She was goading me,” she cries, writhing against my hold. I shift, careful not to let her feel the way my body reacts to her thrashing.
“So, you attacked her?” I snap.
“You didn’t hear what she was saying,” she yells, her voice breaking.
“I don’t care,” I growl, leaning down so my mouth is to her ear. “Have some fucking grace and walk away.”
“Let me go and I will.” It’s not a threat, it’s a promise, and my heart slams at the thought of her running straight out that door and away from me.
“You don’t have to fight to survive here, Remi,” I grind out. “I already took you in. I’m giving you a home. What the club girls say, it meansshit.”
“How many others?” she demands, still straining even though she knows she’s not getting free.
“Others?”
“Have yourescued?” she screams, impatient, furious. “That’s what she said. I’m a stray. Your way to repent your sins.”
I shake my head, frustration clawing at my chest. “Baby, I could rescue a thousand women like you and still not be halfway to heaven. And quite frankly,” my mouth twists into a humourless grin, “I don’t wanna end up there anyway. I made peace with the devil a long time ago. When I go to hell, we’ll party like brothers. I ain’t repenting for shit.”
I release her, and she spins instantly, eyes darting to the doorway I’m blocking.
“You’re not running,” I warn, my voice low, firm.
“I’m not staying,” she snaps back.
“And where you gonna take your feral little arse?” I demand, one brow arched. “Back to the streets? Dressed in my shirt?”
