Zorro (Reapers MC #16) - Elizabeth Knox Page 0,19
in times of battle,” Sydney tells her with the utmost sass, almost making me stifle a chuckle.
“This dude is your uncle?” the blondie responds hastily, proving how much she doesn’t like me.
“Yeah, what’s it to you?” Sydney shoots back the same sass she must’ve known was directed at me. “All of the guys here are my uncles. They’ve watched out for me my entire life.”
“So, you’re not related?” blondie questions her.
“No, but we don’t have to be to be family.”
The blondie chuckles lightly, and I’m sure there’s a bitchy looking expression plastered across her face . . . but I don’t dare look back. If I do, I’ll lose my fucking shit. This bitch behind me can be shitty to me if she wants. Hell, she can be shitty to any of the brothers, but she can’t be shitty to Syd. The girl’s off limits after everything she’s been through in her short almost sixteen years.
Making our way across the day’s old snow, we cut across the field and head back to the clubhouse. The sooner I get these ladies into the bunker, the better.
“You know, I expected some sort of response from you, since you’re sassy and all,” Sydney pipes up. She’s never been the type of person to understand when to drop a conversation, always needing to have the last word. Reminds me of Fist in a lot of ways, and I’m sure it’s something she picked up from him.
“About what?” the woman asks her as we make our way in the clubhouse doors. We pass a few of the guys and I see they have Gears hoisted up on a chair, tied down with copious amounts of duct tape.
“Z being my uncle,” Sydney responds.
“The entire point of being family is sharing blood, kid. It’s cute you think you have family here, but don’t let them fool you. Everyone in life disappoints you after a certain point, even if you do believe they’re family.”
“Shiloh, can you take Sydney and Rub’ down to the bunker?” I ask, about ready to snap this blonde bitch’s neck. Shiloh knows me well enough to know I’m furious, so she loops her arms through both Sydney’s and Ruby’s and gets out of sight as quickly as she can.
“Look, I don’t know who the fuck you are thinking you can come into our home and say that type of shit, but we don’t let anyone talk to any of us that way. Especially not some stuck-up rich bitch,” I hiss, looking down at her Michael Kors winter jacket. Money radiates off her and it’s obvious as fuck.
She squints her nose up in disgust. “If you’re pissed at me for telling the kid what she needed to hear, don’t bother. You should be thanking me. It’s better someone prepares her for how rough life can be instead of lying about it.”
I blink at her a few times while her idiotic words fully set in. If she were a man, I’d wrap a hand around her throat and body slam her through one of the pool tables. “That little girl has survived more shit than you know. Her biological father was killed by a rival club and his head was left outside our gate in a box, like a fuckin’ present. Then her mom was burned alive by the same rival club. After that she lived with our Prez at the time, Fist, who was dating her mother and raised the girl after her father died. But he wasn’t the same after his woman died. He tried everything he could to get to her. Hell, we all did, but the screams of someone being burned alive will never leave our memories. He went into a depression and could barely function, so she went off to his daughter, Ashley’s, who’s the VP’s wife. And during that time, he literally stepped in front of a psychopath who was targeting one of the women here. He had a blade shoved through his heart so one of our men didn’t ever have to feel the same pain he did. So get off your fucking high as shit horse and remember the place you’re in, and hopefully by the time I’m done wasting my breath on you you’ll understand why that little girl doesn’t need to see anymore cruelty in the world, because it’s a fucking blessing she survived it this much!” I don’t realize it, but by the end of my speech I’m literally screaming in her face, like a