She was crying.
Nothing, and I do mean nothing, pissed me off more than seeing a man make a woman cry. His only job in life is to provide and protect.
“Brother...” I heard Gator warn.
It didn’t matter. He was too late. I was ready to explode.
Without even thinking about the repercussions, I moved like a shadow, crossing the floor in seconds. Dale was so focused on intimidating Sosha that he never even saw me coming until I had a fistful of his hair.
“What the—” he started to say, but I cut him off by frog-marching his drunk ass to the exit.
“You’ve got exactly ten seconds to get the fuck out of my parking lot before I put a fucking bullet between your goddman eyes,” I snarled, my voice lethal as I shoved open the door and tossed him out into the parking lot on his ass.
He hit the asphalt hard, rolling once before coming to a stop on his side. When he looked up at me, his eyes were wild and unfocused, but I could see the moment reality started to penetrate his alcohol-soaked brain.
“You can’t... you can’t keep me from seeing her,” he slurred, struggling to get to his feet. “She’s mine. She belongs to me.”
I stepped closer, letting him see the gun tucked just inside my cut. “That’s where you’re wrong, motherfucker. She doesn’t belong to you anymore,” I growled. “You had your chance to worship the ground that woman walked on, and you fucking blew it. Now, I’m not going to tell you again. Get the fuck off my property of else I’m going to see you as a threat that needs to be eliminated. Permanently.”
Dale’s face twisted with rage. “This ain’t over,” he spat, pointing a shaky finger at me.
My eyes narrowed to slits. “Let me make something crystal fucking clear to you,” I said, my voice so low it was barely audible over the music spilling out of the club. “If you so much as breathe in her direction again, if you even think about coming back here, I will end you. You hear me, motherfucker? Do we understand each other?”
Dale must have seen something in my face that sobered him up real quick, because he took a stumbling step back, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air, but no words came out.
He turned and lurched toward a beat-up pickup truck, fumbling with his keys before finally getting the door open. I watched him peel out of the parking lot, memorizing his license plate as he went.
I’d be having a conversation with Cyber tomorrow. We needed to see what kind of information we could dig up on Dale Morrison.
When I turned around, I found Gator standing in the doorway, his massive frame blocking most of the light spilling out from inside. Sosha was tucked behind him, her face pale but relieved.
“You good?” I asked her as I walked back toward the entrance.
She nodded quickly. “Thank you. I... I was so scared he was going to?—”
“He’s not going to do anything,” I cut her off gently. “But Sosha? If he gives you even one more second of trouble—if he calls, texts, shows up at the trailer, anything—you call me personally. Not the cops. Me. Understood?”
The cops wouldn’t do shit to the fuck head until he hurt her again. Their hands were tied because Sosh never reported him before. So until he tried to kill her, she was a sitting duck.
Well not on my fucking watch. I didn’t have to operate between the lines of the law. I was a member of the Kings of Anarchy, and we had our own form of justice–an eye for a fucking eye. My hands weren’t tied, and I’d handle Dale if he bothered her again.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I will.”
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out one of my cards, pressing it into her hand. “My personal cell is on the back. Twenty-four seven, darlin’.”
The girls who worked for us were under our protection, and nobody fucked with the Kings.
“Go take a break,” I told her. “Get yourself together. Take all the time you need.”
She nodded and disappeared back into the club, probably heading for the dressing room to touch up her makeup and calm her nerves.
Gator stepped aside to let me pass. “Want me to pay Dale a visit?”
I considered it. Having Gator show up at the asshole’s front door would definitely send a message, but it might also escalate things in a way that could bring unwanted attention to the club.
“Not yet,” I decided. “But if he comes back...”
“He won’t make it out of the parking lot,” Gator finished grimly.
