“Hey, I need to speak with Slider. Can we follow you up?”

The douche was smiling at me. Fuck it.

“Yeah, sure.”

If Slider had a problem with this guy, I would have known. I didn’t recognize him, but I could tell he wasn’t a cop. After all these years, I could smell a cop from a mile away. I didn’t see any reason to lock him out.

We pulled up to the garages, and I saw Brenna and Trix walking toward us from a couple of picnic tables in the grass. God, she was beautiful. She hadn’t straightened her hair, and all of the little corkscrew curls were everywhere. She and Trix were both wearing sundresses, and they looked like they had gotten a little sun. Brenna looked at me nervously. I heard the douche start talking behind me, but it took me a second to realize what he’d said because Brenna turned her head, and the blood drained from her face. I glanced down at Trix, who was trying to climb under Brenna’s skirt. It took me a moment to understand what was happening. They were shrinking. Right in front of my eyes, my beautiful girls were pulling into themselves—as if they would disappear if they could just get small enough, quiet enough, still enough. Then, it hit me. Only one reason why the guy behind me could get a reaction like that.

I didn’t even think. This had to be the guy who had beaten the hell out of Brenna. The guy she was running from. The guy who had made my girl so scared she went completely silent at the first hint of a threat. I didn’t know how the fuck she’d gotten caught up with this douche, who was so different from us in his expensive suit and fuckin’ comb-over, but it didn’t matter.

I was going to fuckin’ kill him.

I got within about five feet from him when I heard Slider start yelling for Grease. Two steps closer, and I noticed his men drawing down on me. It didn’t matter. They could fuck off; my boys had my back. There wasn’t a fuckin’ thing anyone could do, short of killing me, that would keep me from killing him where he stood. Then, I heard Trix yelling for her papa. Who was she yelling at? She couldn’t be running to the dick in front of me. That didn’t make any sense.

I turned my head to look at her, and she started running right toward us. What the fuck was Brenna doing, letting her run through this shit? I glanced quickly up at Brenna but couldn’t meet her eye. She looked shell-shocked. Then, she started chasing Trix. Right as I looked back at Trix, she ran as hard as she could and leaped onto me like a fuckin’ monkey. As I lifted her up on my arm, she buried her face in my neck, and I could feel her soft, warm breath against me.

“Papa, Papa, Papa, Papa.”

My little warrior was fuckin’ whimpering in my ear. I heard Brenna run up behind us, and I took a couple steps back, so Trix was closer to our boys and farther away from Brenna’s husband and his goons. I didn’t want her anywhere near the fucker.

We ended up right next to Brenna, and I could feel her shaking, so I slid my hand to her lower back. I might be pissed as hell at her, but I couldn’t stop myself from trying to comfort her. She was scared shitless, and I needed to touch her. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and promise her he’d never touch her again—that I’d take care of her, that she didn’t have to be scared. Instead, I just put my hand above her ass. She didn’t seem to notice the move. She just stood there. Every man in the forecourt knew what it meant though. It was possessive, claiming.

This motherfucker needed to know I was never giving them back. He started spewing fuckin’ garbage, and my stomach clenched so tight that I thought I was going to vomit all over the pavement like a fuckin’ pussy. Jesus Christ. Brenna was still as stone beside me, and I knew I needed to get her and Trix away from here. She needed to go now before I pulled my gun and shot this fucker. As soon as I pulled my piece, all hell was going to break loose, and I didn’t want them in the middle of it. I handed Trix to Brenna and told her to get the baby inside. She tried to argue, but I gave her a little shove to get her moving. I didn’t know how long I was going to last before I lost it.

As soon as she stepped through the doors of the clubhouse, I pulled the gun from the back of my pants, but before I could raise my arm, Slider was there. I’d never seen him so pissed. I couldn’t shoot the douche as long as Slider was standing in the mess, so I just bided my time. I’d get the fucker.

“What the fuck are you doing, Richards? You think you can come on my grounds, to my club, and start running off at the mouth? You have a goddamn death wish?” The guy opened his mouth to protest, but Slider cut him off. “I know who your father is, and frankly, that doesn’t mean fuck all to me. You come here again, uninvited, and I’ll let Poet have you. He’ll make you wish you were dead long before he grants that wish. Now, get the fuck off my property before I fucking bury you.”

I realized Brenna had walked back up next to me just as I heard the rumble of Kendra’s car. What a clusterfuck. God, I hoped the bitch would be smart enough to stay in the car.

Nope. Of course not. She walked right between Brenna and me and wrapped her arms around me as if she didn’t notice the fifteen guns pointed at us. God, this bitch was dense. I didn’t move. I couldn’t make myself put my arms around her as I stood with Brenna up against her husband. This chick was mine, and she had been for a year, and I couldn’t touch her. Brenna was looking at Kendra like she didn’t know what to make of her when Richards started blasting his mouth off again as he got ready to leave.

He got back in his car and took off, but I couldn’t pull my eyes from Brenna. She looked as if she had shrunk into herself. I didn’t know how it was possible, but she looked smaller than she had just seconds before. Her eyes were closed, and she was taking fast, shallow breaths. Her arms were wrapped around herself, and she was holding her elbows so tightly that I could see her fingers were completely flexed.