ass outside,” I told him again. “I don’t want to make a mess in the clubhouse. That’d be plain rude. You don’t want to be rude to the Nighthawk Raiders, do you?”
He blinked, and I realized the dumbass was drunk as fuck. Christ. Talia hadn’t taken any chances—Mike was a lamb to the slaughter.
“I’ll kick your ass,” he slurred, and we started for the door. Voices rose around us, a new energy in the air. Everyone loved a good fight.
Outside there was just a trace of light still in the sky, and the evening air was hotter than it had any right to be. I caught a whiff of smoke and wondered if they’d been stupid enough to start a bonfire or something. There was a burn ban across the whole region. Last summer there’d been huge wildfires and we’d gotten even less rain this year. Combine that with low snowpack and a couple lightning strikes up in the hills, and building a fire was a real, real bad idea. Hopefully even Marsh wasn’t that stupid.
Mike stumbled into the parking lot ahead of me as the bikers followed us. He must’ve been faking me out, because suddenly he turned and tried to sucker punch me. I managed to dodge it, which left him off-balance, opening the way for me to slam my fist into his kidneys. Fucker groaned but kept to his feet, which impressed me.
“Fight, you fucking pussy!” Talia shrieked behind us. Mike lunged and I danced back out of the way, feeling the anger rise. Anger at Talia, anger at Marsh. Hell, even at poor Mike for wasting my time. Some men loved to fight, but I’d never been one of them. Not that I was scared of anything—I’d stood up for my brothers time and again—but destroying a man with my fists was just another job.
Man? Hell. Mike hardly qualified, I decided, catching him in the stomach. Barely old enough to drink legal, and while he had strength and energy, I had experience on my side. Mike crashed to the ground, groaning, and I gave him a kick for good measure. Men shouted all around us, and I realized some of them were taking bets. Fuckwads.
Shooting a glance toward Talia, I caught her licking her lips, mesmerized by the violence. She loved this, having two men fight over her. Fed her ego, made her feel important. Christ, but I hated her.
The thought caught me off guard.
She’d pissed me off and disgusted me, but in that moment I realized it was true—I genuinely hated the bitch. Huh.
Mike lunged for my leg, catching me off-balance while I was distracted. Fucking moron, keep your mind in the game. He tackled me as I went down, the annoyance and frustration I’d felt blazing to new life. Fucker wanted a piece of me? I’d give him a goddamn piece.
He tried to pin me to the ground, but I broke free, thanking my high school wrestling coach for that little move. Guess muscle memory never dies. Then I kicked out, catching him and throwing him to the side as I jumped back to my feet. All bets were off now, and I kicked him again, this time in the ribs. I actually heard them breaking—Mikey-boy better hope he hadn’t punctured a lung. The kid moaned, rolling to the side.
“You out?” I snarled. He started to nod, then Talia shrieked at him.
“You ever wanna be in this club? Fight like a fuckin’ man!”
Jesus. Christ.
Bitch’d get him killed at this rate. Mike tried to push himself back up again, moving painfully slow. He was gonna force me to end it. Moron. I caught the front of his shirt, positioning him for one final punch to knock him out. Five seconds later he was on the ground, and this time he wasn’t moving.
Raising my head, I stared at Talia.
“You happy now?” I snarled. She giggled, nodding her head. “Then get over here.”
She scampered toward me as the men around us laughed, money changing hands. Nobody lifted a finger to help Mike. Guess he was just collateral damage, poor bastard. Grabbing Talia around her biceps, I dragged her toward the corner of the building, because she’d had her fun and now it was time to pay. We passed the corner and I marched her into the darkness.
“Cooper, you were so hot,” she said breathlessly. I slammed her against the wall. She dropped a hand down to my dick, massaging me through the denim of my jeans, and