glass ashtray.
I clock two men in the chins, dropping them both. A third guy rushes at me, but just before he arrives, the man who hit Beckham with the ashtray comes flying through the air and collides into him.
I’m taking a couple of hits as I fight back. They’re everywhere.
One name keeps repeating in my head, urging me on.
Gunner. Gunner. Gunner.
I want my vengeance.
The back doors explode open and the backup pours in, attacking the advancing bikers from behind. Finally, we get a bit of room to move. Beckham is bleeding from his temple, but he’s in the zone, dropping every biker he can get his hands on.
Sometimes, I think my brother would have been better suited to be born in the Roman Gladiator days. He would have been the most famous man in Rome.
I step back for a second and just admire his work as he slams a man’s head into the bar and then elbows someone else in the face. I’m lucky my older brother has always been nice to me or I wouldn’t have survived my childhood.
It’s then that something catches my eye.
President is written on the cut of the man swinging a pool cue at one of my Heartland brothers.
My eyes are locked on him as he swings it, hitting nothing but air, and I see his name.
Gunner.
My jaw clenches. With fists squeezed tight and blood boiling, I storm over there.
I cut through the chaos and focus on him. There’s a pounding in my ears as adrenaline rushes through me.
I was born to protect Stella. This is what I was put on the earth to do.
I was made for this moment.
Buzz is fighting him, dodging the swinging pool cue with his fists in the air.
“Buzz,” I say as I put my hand on his shoulder. “This fucker is mine.”
He doesn’t argue. He just looks at the rage in my eyes and moves on.
“You want some too?” Gunner asks as his grip tightens on the pool cue.
He swings it and I raise my forearm letting it slam into me. I grin, feeling the stinging pain and letting it amplify my rage.
“You laid hands on my girl,” I growl as he swings the pool cue back, ready to hit me again.
“That skank waitress?” he asks with a snarl. “I should have fucked her on the bar. She was begging me for it.”
The rage snaps inside me and I lunge on him. He tries to fight back, but there’s no way. I’m overpowering him in every way because I’m fighting for my girl.
A few hard punches, sends him falling to the floor with me landing on top of him. I crack my elbows into his jaw and then he reaches into his boot and pulls out a knife.
I grab his wrist as he tries to stab me with it.
“All this over a stupid club slut?” he hisses as we fight over the knife. “Fuck her and fuck you!”
His arm shoots up and my grip slips. He’s about to stab me in the stomach when I block his arm with mine and plunge the blade into his heart.
“No one touches my Stella,” I whisper as I stand up over his body and watch him die.
The rest of The Outlaws are fleeing out the door as the Heartland boys take over. The bar is trashed. Gage and a few other guys are carrying out the guns and supplies they robbed from the club, plus some extras. They had it all stashed in the basement of the clubhouse.
“What the fuck?” Troy whispers as he comes over and sees the dead body at my feet.
“It was his knife,” I tell him. I don’t know why I’m explaining. The man got what he deserved. “Stella is under my protection.”
He nods, knowingly. “And you and your brother are under ours. You’re both welcome to stay.”
We hurry up and leave, riding our bikes through the town and I only have one thing on my mind…
Getting home to my girl.
“What happened to you?” Stella asks in a panic when I show up at her door.
My shirt is covered in blood and she’s staring at it with wide eyes.
“It’s not mine,” I say as I walk in and peel it off. I toss it in her trash can along with the rest of my clothes and she takes it out back to burn it while I take a shower.
She’s going to make a good Old Lady.
When I come out with a towel wrapped around my waist, she’s sitting