Priest storms into the room with a face like thunder. He takes one look at the bag in my hand before yanking it from my grip and tossing it across the room. It hits the lamp beside the bed and both items crash to the floor.
“You don’t get to leave, not now, not ever. You agreed to be our old lady, and that’s for life or until I say differently,” he yells at me.
“Until you say differently?” I question, but he’s too angry to hear the warning tone in my voice.
“That’s right, sweetheart, my clubhouse, my rules, and one of those rules says that sweet pussy of yours is mine. I dare you to try and take it from me.”
I stare at him, beyond tired, struggling to deal with the onslaught of emotions warring for domination within me and shake my head.
“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, Priest. You were fine when I saw you earlier and now you’re acting like a dick. But newsflash, asshole, I don’t have to listen to you spewing your bullshit. I am sick to death of the men in my life thinking they get to control me. Do you remember what happened to the last guy who pushed his luck?” I ask, referring to the prospect I shot twice.
“I’d like to see you try anything when you’re cuffed to the bed,” he purrs, but it’s not in his usual sexually dominating way. It’s a threat, plain and simple, and my body goes alert at his words as I slip into fight or flight mode.
I blink rapidly, wrapping my arms around myself so I don’t claw his pretty face.
My grief and anger are warring for dominance, and although I don’t want to hurt him, I will if I have to. He must sense that because he smiles wickedly at me before he lunges. I’m airborne for a moment before I find myself on my back on the bed with Priest’s body pressing into mine.
My lips tremble from the effort of trying to hold myself together, “If my brother dies and I miss my chance to say goodbye because of you, I’ll be gone and you’ll never fucking see me again,” I whisper with tears thick in my voice. He rears back like I stuck him.
“What?”
“Travis has been shot. I’m going home to say goodbye. If you try to stop me, I’ll break both your legs and walk over you to get to him,” I vow, my muscles tight in anticipation of a fight.
“Your brother?” he asks, sounding confused.
“Yeah, you remember I have five of those, right?” I swallow down the thought that I might only have four come morning.
“Believe it or not, not everything is about you, Priest. Now get the fuck off me.” I growl.
He doesn’t move, though, because why would he? He never fucking listens. Instead, he smooths the hair off my face. “Baby,” he whispers, but it’s too much. I can handle his anger, but I can’t handle his softness right now. If I crack now, everything will spill out of me, and I fear I won’t stop screaming until my voice gives out.
“Get off me,” I grit out, my voice sounding shrill.
“Reign,” he tries again, but I’m done, so fucking done.
“Get off me, getoffgetoffgetoff!” I scream, as I lose it, beating at his chest with everything I have, before my screams become sobs and my sobs become whimpers. He doesn’t let me go though, he just holds me tight as I fall apart in his arms.
I hear the door open, but I don’t move, too emotionally spent to even lift my head. All the fight gone from me.
Please God, don’t take my brother from me.
“What the fuck?” I hear Bates snap, but I keep my eyes closed and continue to silently beg God not to take Travis.
“She’s okay. She just needed to let it out. What’s the plan?” Priest asks, slipping back into president mode.
“Saint is talking to the VPs. I called Orion. We’re going to stay with them for protection while we’re there.”
“Sounds good. Have one of the prospects get the truck ready and have him put my bike in the back. I’ve drunk too much to drive, and Reign isn’t in any state to be on the back of a bike.”
“On it. You got her?” Bate asks quietly.
“Yeah, man, I got her.”
The door closes again, then Priest pulls away from me a little, looking down at my tear-stained face.