“Excuse me?” Her hands slam down on her hips, all of her sass on display. “Who the fuck do you think you are to talk to me like that? You always have some shit to say, Playboy,” she sneers his road name like he’s dirt under her shoe, “but the reality is that you don’t know me, and you don’t know a damn thing about my life.”
“I don’t have to know anything about your life,” he curls his lip with disgust with his words. “Maybe most people can’t see through you, but I can see how fake you are. I’m not fooled.” He barks out a laugh, but there’s no amusement in the sound. “You think you’re so perfect,” he sneers at her.
Taken aback by my brother’s attitude, I look at him, my face a mask of shock. I’m not the only one either. Everyone in the room except for Lara and Graycie are looking at Playboy like we’ve never seen him before.
He has never been disrespectful to women, quite the opposite because he never really had a mom. The women of the club rallied to help Rumble raise him.
Lara tips her head back and laughs, but it’s not a nice sound. It’s filled with derision and a big side of ‘you’re an asshole’. The way her eyes bubble with hatred as she looks at him is a sight to see.
“I’m not perfect,” she’s almost yelling the words as she takes a step closer to him without even realizing it. “I’m the farthest thing from perfect. I’m just a woman trying to keepmyfucking life together while gettingmybusiness off the ground and raisingmydaughter.” She gets right in his face without any fear, “You’re just a little boy who has been listening to the wrong people.” Her voice drops to something dangerous with a warning I’m pretty sure my brother should heed, “But if you’d rather make assumptions than see for yourself, you can’t be helped. And you can fuck right off.”
My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a woman talk to Playboy like this. Usually, woman fall at his feet with their thighs spread. This is kind of a nice change.
“I feel sorry for you,” Lara whispers the words before looking around the room. When her eyes land on me, she straightens her spine. “I’ll let you know if my security company has anything to say about someone getting in. It doesn’t make any sense.”
She closes her eyes for a moment and her exhaustion becomes obvious. Playboy’s hands twitch at his sides, like he wants to reach for her, but then they clench along with his jaw.
“I need to go check on Vanessa,” she says to no one in particular. When she looks at my woman, her eyes soften. “Take care of yourself, that’s what matters most.”
Lara gives my woman a quick hug before she disappears through the door that leads back up to her place. Playboy watches her go without saying a word.
No one says anything for a moment, and I kiss my woman’s head. “We should swing by your place before heading back home.”
Graycie nods and I don’t think she realizes that she’s agreed with the clubhouse being her home. I’m certainly not going to mention it.
Before we head out, Playboy and Whiskey moving with us, Graycie steps away from me. I feel the loss of her heat immediately. She stops in front of my dad and winds her arms around his waist to give him a squeeze.
“Thank you for having my back,” she whispers the words and Dad’s face softens.
“Anything for you,” he whispers, “as long as I get those grandchildren soon.”
She giggles and doesn’t deny it as a possibility. Dad looks over her head and we share a look, loaded with all the possibilities for the future. I don’t even try to hide the smirk on my face.
After I help her into Dolly’s car, I follow close behind her while Playboy and Whiskey take the lead. Graycie doesn’t know it yet, but once we get her stuff into my house on club property, I’ll never let her leave again. I’ll never give her a reason to want to.
If this is the first volley in that dick’s campaign to terrorize my woman, he’s going to be sorry. It’s time to tighten the noose around him because I have plans for when he’s finally in my clutches.
I’ll have to curb my bloodlust until I can take him to our wet room. Then the fun will really begin.
CHAPTER 19
GRAYCIE
It feels strange stepping into my garage apartment now. I don’t like this feeling, like this isn’t my space and I can’t trust it hasn’t been violated. The way my stomach roils makes me feel unsteady and uneasy.
What if Sylvester is in town? What if he’s the one who broke into Bunz Out? What if he’s been here too?
My steps are hesitant as I step inside the place I’ve called home since arriving in Dogwood Ridge. The lock wasn’t tampered with, and it doesn’t appear that anyone has been here, but I can’t shake the feeling of being watched.
Maybe it’s unfounded. Maybe it’s just my fear taking hold.
I feel like a skittish animal.
“Do you think he was here?” My voice is soft and shakes slightly with vulnerability.
“Angel,” the deep rumble of my man’s voice soothes the jagged parts of me, “we don’t know who broke into Bunz Out. I can’t say it was him. I can’t say it wasn’t. But it doesn’t look like anyone has been here.”
I nod slowly as my eyes trail over the space, again, this time trying to see it without fear. But it doesn’t work.
