Raw and Dirty(55)

“I'm so sorry—” I cut her off again by turning around and slamming my palm against the wood of the front door.

“Don't talk to me right now, Lyric.” I stand up and turn back towards her. “In fact, the way I see it, you and me, we're done. In bed, in business, whatever the hell it is that you want from me.” She starts to move around the corner, but I'm not sure what I'll do if she gets to close to me. Kiss her? Fuck her? God, I almost want to slap her. But I don't hit women, not even ones who get my best friend killed with their bullshit. My brother is gone because of her. The thought's unfair, I know, because there's no way in hell she knows about any of the rest of it, about Mile Wide and all that.

But it doesn't matter because I can't stop thinking it.

“Email me whatever shit it is that you've got going on with the city. I'll sign it.”

“Royal, wait,” she starts, but I'm already done here. I've heard what I needed to hear, and I'll keep my word. She gave me the truth, gave me exactly what I asked for.

“In the future, if you want something to happen, try asking first, love. The club already took a vote on the partnership with the city. We were all in, babe. You,” I point at her, “you're the one that fucked up. Just remember how I saved your life today.”

I slam the door on her shocked face.

Loose ends need to be taken care of, something the previous pres taught me. But I won't tell my brothers about any of this; they don't need to know. Brent and Sully, we'll take care of them. Rebecca, she's my job. But Lyric? Nobody needs to know about Lyric.

I grab my helmet from the lawn and swing my leg over my bike, running a hand down my face.

Never thought I'd see this day, the day I'd keep something from my brothers.

It goes against everything I've ever known, ever believed in. The brotherhood comes first; the club comes first. I'd give my life for any of them, and they know that.

But I won't give them Lyric's life.

Not today, not in the future.

Even if I never see her again a day in my life.



Sully Rentz is easy to track down.

Dumb shit shakes me down in the afternoon and then hits the bar in the evening. I wait for him outside, following him to his car with quiet footsteps, and then I slam my hand against the door as he tries to open it.

“What the—” He spins around just in time to get a fist to the face, crumpling back against his fancy black sedan with a groan and a gush of blood from his nostrils. When he sees me, his eyes go wide and his lower lip trembles. For Christ's sake, this man doesn't even have half a sack. His sister's got bigger balls than he does. “Please don't hurt me,” he says, covering his nose with a shaking hand. “Clayton Moore—”

“Doesn't mean shit to me.” I lift my hammer out of my belt and slam it against my open palm. “Now, you listen to me, you dumb fuck. If your dad wasn't the mayor, you'd be dead right now. Do you understand that?”

Sully just stares at me like I'm the devil come to take him down to hell.

In a way, I guess I am.

“Here's what's going to happen,” I say, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. Technically, this isn't my job. Glacier or Smoky should be out here with a couple of prospects, laying the law down for Mr. Rentz. But I need an outlet before I go and see Rebecca. Sully Rentz is going to hurt tonight for a purpose. “I'm going to beat the shit out of you, punk ass. It's going to hurt like hell, and for a little while tonight, you're going to wish you were dead.”

Sully sneaks his right hand into his pocket, like I'm stupid enough to miss a move like that. I reach out with a lightning quick grip and wrap my fingers around his wrist until he screams and drops his cell to the ground with a crack. Think the screen just broke. What a shame.

I take another quick look around, but there's nobody here. Sully parked a ways away from the bar, probably trying to make sure nobody from his dad's office spies his car in this shitty ass part of town.

I put my foot down on the cell and lean in until I hear another satisfying crack.

“A couple of my boys are on the way,” I tell him and enjoy the way his face gets even paler, bloodless, twisted with fear. Thing is, he doesn't know how lucky he really is. By all rights, he should end up six feet under like his friend, Brent, is going to. But then we'd catch heat for all of this and beyond all things, that's what the club and its members want to avoid. “When they get here, they'll call the cops and tell 'em they saw your ass getting beat by a couple of random thugs during a mugging gone wrong. They chased them off, and they're fucking heroes. You'll corroborate their story.”

“Like hell,” Sully says, a bit of backbone in him after all. I grin, but it's not my usual smile. He can see it, taste the wicked beautiful brutality that's hanging heavy in the air.