“Is your personal number listed for your company?” he asks.
I sober instantly and wait.
“No,” she answers.
“But her full name is,” Foster says, tapping at his phone. “And a quick search will tell anyone exactly where she lives.”
Fuck.
“I’m so proud of you, babygirl,” I say, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Do me a favor and don’t leave this compound.”
Turning, I spot the man I need.
“Max!” I shout. “I want every prospect in the center. Now. Training with Foster and me.”
A chorus of groans follows, but I don’t give a single fuck.
My woman’s name is out there.
Her face. Her work.
Abby is so fucking beautiful. More so than she realizes. She also has that soft, innocent look about her that any sick fuck would like to bask in.
Ain’t fucking happening.
“I want everyone not on guard duty in the center as well,” Spike calls out, voice sharp. “Tank, call the other chapters. We’re having a club-wide meeting tomorrow. Presidents and officers here at the main clubhouse…no later than eleven.”
“Guys,” Abby sighs, rubbing her temples. “You’re making this into way too big a deal.”
I turn back to her, jaw tight.
“If someone reaches out,” she continues calmly, “it’ll probably be women who want a simple outfit made. It’s fashion. What are they gonna do, assault me with fabric?”
A few people chuckle.
I don’t.
Because the world already proved it doesn’t need a reason to hurt her…three fucking times.
But this time?
We’ll be ready.
“Don’t fight it, sister,” Foster says. “Now… you want to come outside and see why these cowards hate training with me?”
***ABBY***
I should probably be throwing a fit over how over-the-top everyone is being.
But honestly?
I really do want to see why these men fear Foster.
“Lead the way,” I sigh, already moving.
“I’ve already ordered pizza,” Sunny announces, earning an approving grunt from Bones.
“Why don’t you ever help train the prospects, Bones?” Lila asks.
