One of the men that was shouting some pretty vile shit tossed a glass bottle over the gate. It barely missed some of the bikers, and that just had the whole shit-storm of violence erupting. Marx was holding one of his men back that was about ready to tear the churchgoers in two. Malice took another step forward, and the need to be with his brethren rode him hard, but he was concerned about Adrianna. And then he heard the cult going wild.
“Whores.”
“Sluts.”
“The devil’s concubines.”
He saw Adrianna and the club pussy standing off to the side by the garage. His heart started pounding fast and hard, and he moved toward her with determined, quick steps.
“You motherfucking bitch.”
He stopped dead in his tracks at the deep voice that seemed to rise above the rest. He turned, and through all of the raised arms, figurative pitchforks high in the hair, and anger and hatred that swirled behind the gate, he saw that worthless prick of an ex, Phillip. His blood boiled, and he curled his hands into fists. Adrianna’s ex-boyfriend was one stupid bastard, and Malice was not the type to give second warnings. He turned and made his way back to Adrianna and the other woman. They had yet to move. Adrianna wore a frightened, shocked look, and the other club woman was staring off at the crowd with this curious expression. A club pussy woman was tough—they had to be if they were going to be a part of the MC lifestyle.
“Adrianna.” He called out to her, and she immediately looked his way. Her eyes widened, and she pointed out to the crowd, no doubt seeing Phillip, and hearing what he had yelled out to her. “Come here,” he said at the same time he had taken a step toward her. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and his gut clenched. This was a bad situation to begin with, and now with her ex here, and all the negative and dangerous energy in the air he knew it could go to a volatile level fast. He reached her in a matter of seconds, and as soon as he had his arm wrapped around her shoulder he felt her tremors start to subside
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She said it like she was out of breath. “I didn’t bring him here, did I?” She looked up at his face “I didn’t bring this to your clubhouse, did I?”
God, he wanted to take the fear, anxiousness, and worry out of her. “No, Adrianna, you didn’t do this. Those fuckers have been coming around her and stirring shit around, and that fucker…” he gritted out, trying to control himself because he was getting even more pissed by the second.
“God will judge you when you’re dead, but until then we will be the jury.”
Malice turned and stared at a dark haired man that stepped forward. The people around him parted, and started touching him like he was some kind of savior to them. The man wore all black, and his dark hair was slicked back from his wide brow. He wore this thick silver cross around his neck. He gripped the bars and held one hand high in the hair.
“You will be punished by the flames of hell.” But the bastard smirked, and there was this glint in his eyes that made Malice feel unsteady.
“The cops have been called, but not sure how much they will be. As much as I want to open the gates and let the assholes in so they can get a whooping, I have to fucking play by the books,” Marx said as he walked past them and back into the clubhouse. “I need to make sure the women are all good, but you two need to get inside.” He pointed to Adrianna and the other woman.
“Gun!” The screams started right away, but the next few moments seemed to go in slow motion.
Malice turned and pulled Adrianna behind him just as Phillip pushed the cult leader aside, raised the gun high in the air, and fired off a shot. The motherfucker was smarter than Malice gave him credit for. Phillip must have put two and two together when he saw Malice’s patch. And then the fucker had gotten lucky that there were these assholes outside protesting their bullshit ideals, and that Malice and Adrianna just happened to be outside, too. All this fucking chaos had helped that little prick out, but once Malice got his hands on him he was going to make sure the fucking douche never breathed again.
The fanatics scrambled away and screamed. Many people ducked, but when Phillip put his hand through the slates of the gate and pointed it right at Malice, time seemed to go to a standstill. Malice kept Adrianna behind him, and just as he went to go to the ground Phillip pulled the trigger. There was another round of screams. The cult leader was shouting some biblical stuff with his hands in the air and totally not caring that there was a shooter amongst them. It wasn’t until Malice was on the ground with Adrianna underneath him that he saw the bullet slam into the concrete right beside him, and right where they had been standing.