Man of the House(182)

At least until Jetter finally took me away.

The clubhouse was full when we got there. A ton of strange bikes were parked outside. Clutch killed the engine and looked at me as I climbed off.

“You sure you want to go in?” he asked.

“Why not?”

“Rebels are here tonight,” he said.

“Might as well get used to them, Clutch.”

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Guess so.”

He swung off his bike and followed me as I pushed my way into the bar.

The place really was packed. I knew it would be, but I hadn’t seen it full of guys I didn’t recognize in a long time. Sure, the Demons were always bringing in new pledges, but I knew the vast majority of guys that showed up at the clubhouse on any given day.

We headed in and veered toward a table with Dow and Noble sitting at it. The two men nodded as Clutch and I sat down with them.

“Shit show tonight,” Dow said.

“Yeah,” Noble added. “Rebels are in some foul fucking mood it seems.”

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“Just a drunk mess,” Dow said. “It’s fun and all, but these guys are fucking animals.”

We were interrupted by a bunch of men cheering over near the bar. I watched as one man chugged down an entire beer and then smashed the glass on the floor, making the guys around him cheer louder.

“The fuck,” Clutch said.

“They’ve been doing that all night,” Dow said. “We’re running out of glasses.”

Noble just shook his head.

I sighed. “You guys want a round? On me.”

“Sure,” Noble said.

Dow gave me a thumbs up and Clutch just nodded.

“Whisky all around then,” I said, and walked over to the bar. I had to elbow my way to get close to the bar before resting my elbows on it, sighing.

“TomTom,” I called out. “Four whiskies.”

He looked at me, frowning. Poor kid looked haggard and busy. “Okay,” he said, hustling to get the drinks before more Rebels tried to get his attention.

I stood there for a second and then felt something pinch my ass. I shot straight up, whirling around. “What the hell?” I asked.

This guy was just standing there, grinning at me. He was missing a front tooth, and his beard was patchy and graying. “Girl, you was making it too tempting,” he said, “just sticking that round behind out there.”

“My behind is not yours to fucking touch, creep,” I said.

“Don’t be like that, girly,” he said. “It’s just a little pinch.” He stepped closer to me. “I could do more, if you like.”

“Back off,” I warned.

“Or what? You’re just some club slut. Maybe I’ll take you home tonight, see how the Demon sluts treat their guests.”

I didn’t hesitate. I took one of the glasses TomTom had just placed down on the bar in front of me and smashed it right into the guy’s head.

He went down in a crash of broken glass. There was some blood, but a lot less than I’d expected.

“What the fuck!” another guy I didn’t recognize said. “You fucking bitch. You just killed Bubba.”

“He’s fine,” I said. “He’s lucky I didn’t cut off his fucking dick.”

“You mouthy whore,” he said. “I’m going to rape your stupid cunt right here.” The man stepped toward me.

I grabbed another glass, ready to defend myself.

But I didn’t have to. Clutch loomed up behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder.

“The fuck you—” he said, turning, but he couldn’t finish his sentence. Clutch smashed his fist into the guy’s mouth, cracking his head back.

I had to move fast to get out of the way of the guy as he fell backward and smashed into the bar.

Clutch followed up, taking the guy’s face and smashing it against the bar twice. The man collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Clutch looked around him. It was dead silent. “Anyone else?” he asked calmly.

Nobody moved.

“See this girl?” he asked, pointing at me. “This is Larkin’s daughter. This is the girl Jetter claimed, and I’m in charge of protecting her. If anyone touches her, talks to her, or looks at her weird, I will fucking murder you. Understood?”

Nobody responded.

He looked at me. “You got those drinks?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Here.”

I handed him two glasses and slugged back the third, finishing it off.

“TomTom,” I called out, “two more.”

He was already there, pouring them out.

“Good job,” he said softly. “Really nailed that guy.”

“Thanks,” I said, grinning.