“I walked away from a situation that wasnotwhat our club stands for. I didn’t walk away from the club. I walked away fromyou.”
Whispers rush through the crowd, and Abbey turns back to me, taking Bobbi before she starts to walk away.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Smitty growls, and the smirk Abbey shoots over her shoulder sends a fucking chill up my spine.
Her monster.
“I’m not a club brother, so I don’t have to be around for what comes next.”
Frowning, Smitty turns his glare to me when my wife keeps walking, going to Jols before they disappear from sight.
“The fuck is she talking about?”
“Club rules. You break them, you deal with the Sergeant-at-Arms.” I raise a brow, and Smitty starts laughing like a fucking hyena.
I discussed this briefly with Abbey in the car. I need to remind my club brothers that I am loyal to them. That I am here. That I will still do my job.
It’s a little unnerving how much she looked like she was happy about that as she walked away a moment ago.
Remind me to never fucking cross my wife.
“You’re going to punish me.” He points to himself before slapping his thigh as he laughs harder.
No one else laughs. No one joins his unhinged antics this time.
“You broke the fucking rules, so damn right I’m gonna punish you,” I snarl.
Technically, something of this nature would call for banishment or death, but all I need to do is knock Smitty off his pedestal for a bit. Fucking remind him that the rules apply to everyone.
Slipping out of my cut, I hand it to JD, who like the others, is putting his gun away, and all Nate can do is stare.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Have you known me to fucking joke?” I snap, and his face hardens.
“Fine.” He reefs off his cut, not even bothering to hand it to Spud, his VP, who is right by his side.
Instead, he tosses the leather to the gravelly ground like it means nothing, and fuck, that makes my jaw tick like crazy.
“I should fucking banish you!” Smitty yells, struggling to contain his anger at being called out and forced to be treated just like anyone else would be.
“I’m not the one who broke the bylaws. You’ll need a majority vote to get rid of me simply because we’re at fucking odds.”
Rolling his shoulders back like this is going to be a fight and not a punishment, Nate looks me dead in the eye when he says, “I could just kill you.”
“Huh,” I smirk, opening and closing my hands, getting ready to make them iron fucking fists. “Why don’t you?”
“I should,” he snaps.
“But you won’t.” I gesture my head to each side, pointing out the club brothers circled around us. “You know you’ll lose their respect.”
His jaw ticks. He knows I’m fucking right.
I ball my fists and widen my stance.
“Be a good boy and take your punishment like arealpresident,” I snap, and a second later, I swing my fist.
26
