I hadn’t intended to do that, but the words are out.
And I want Hayes. I want Army, the patched-in member of the Havoc Guardians. I want all parts of him—his darkness, his light; his filth, his tenderness. His all-encompassing and all-consuming love.
His children.
But I wouldn’t get that—wewouldn’t get that—if Hayes was punished for some asinine, fucked-up club law. One that no longer applies in my case.
I lift my chin to ensure that Guerilla sees for himself that his claim on me is dead.
His eyes bounce over my skin, looking for the tattoo, then his hand lifts to my neck.
Hayes surges into him, shoving him away from me. “Keep your fucking hands off her.”
Panic ripples over Guerilla’s face, and his back snaps rigid. “There’s no way…”
He pushes Hayes to the side to get closer to me, or tries to, but Hayes blocks him. “There’s no fucking way! She has the tattoo covered with make-up or some kind of covering.” His eyes dart to mine. “I marked you, branded you. You’re mine, little lamb. Leeva. I’m not—”
Ash forces his way in and separates the three of us, and I realize then that Hayes has a gun fisted in his hand—along with Barret, Drake, and Jacob, and more than one biker. Some look at Hayes with accusation, others look like they’re ready to step in and protect and defend him. Tension rips through me at how close this situation is to erupting in lethal ways.
“Goddamn it, everyone just calm the fuck down,” Ash growls, his voice sounding even more gravelly than usual.
“Did you know, Ash?” Razor accuses and motions between Hayes and me, then turns to the crowd. “Is this the kind of leader you want for our MC? One that—”
“Shut the fuck up, Razor.” Mauler’s face is etched with anger. “Now isn’t the time for a political smear campaign.” He turns to us, eyeing me, then says to Ash, “I can get Trinity to set up a room for the examination.”
Ash nods, then explains to me, “Trinity is Mauler’s old lady, who is an ER nurse.”
“Trinity is biased because Mauler is your little bitch,” one of the old guard accuses.
“Whoever wants to inspect Leeva’s neck is able to do so and form their own opinions,” Ash says.
“Leeva isn’t some carnival freak show,” Hayes growls.
I place my hand on his back. His muscles are corded and taut, like he’s ready to launch an attack. The wolf who’s ready to rip the throat out of anything he perceives as a threat.
“We need to do this,” I say softly. “Everyone needs to have a chance to see for themselves so they can form their opinion on how to vote.”
I know how this works, and it scares the shit out of me.
Not that I’ll be under inspection, my neck looked at closely, touched and pawed. But the decision on this won’t rest with the Council; it’ll be the whole club voting on whether Hayes is guilty or not. Even if the majority votes in his favor, this might cause irreparable damage to the MC and force a wedge between members who voted for and against him.
Fingers wrap around my arm, digging into my skin and making pain erupt. “You’re mine, and we’re fucking leaving,” Guerilla seethes, but I hear his desperation. When I try to pull free, his grip tightens.
Hayes grips my other arm, pulling me in the opposite direction, and I feel like a bone that two feral dogs are going to fight to the death over.
A shiver of foreboding rakes down my spine that that’s exactly what’s going to happen.
“Stand down,” Ash orders them. “Both of you.”
“Do it,” Bane rumbles, crowding in. “Listen to the prez, both of you.” He pulls me out from between them, flashing them a dark, warning look.
Keifer and Ursula look concerned, and her boyfriends take me from Bane and form a protective circle around me.
Hayes looks murderous that they’re there, acting as a barrier, preventing him from getting to me, even though he knows this is how it has to be right now.
“This is bullshit,” Guerilla tries again. “Leeva is mine, and I’m leaving with her.”
Guerilla’s head snaps back as Ash shoves a gun under his chin. Ash’s entire body and demeanor are menacing. I’ve never seen him look so utterly lethal.
