Shafted(Devil's Blaze MC 4)(40)

“Jax, please! Let it go,” Bree says again, and the stress in her voice gets through to me. Still, this asshole can’t get away with this shit, so I twist his hand hard, satisfied that I broke something, or at the very least caused him enough pain he’ll think twice before laying hands on my woman again.

“What the fuck dude? Where do you get off?” the bastard cries, holding his hand.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” I growl, wanting to say a lot more, and barely containing myself. The only thing stopping me from going after him again, is the fact that Bree still has her hand on my arm. I bring my hand over hers, using my finger to rub against the darkened skin. “You ever put your hands on her again, I’ll make you sorry you were born,” I tell him, and it’s not an idle threat.

“Who in the hell do you think you are?” he asks, still holding his hand.

“I’m her man!” I growl, not taking the time to think or to even try to stop my words.

“I can’t believe you Bree. You’re letting something like this between your legs? If I had known you were this hard-up I would have helped you out,” the slimy bastard says. I lunge at him, but Bree, moves so she jumps in front of me.

“You need to leave, Jeff,” she says, her voice tight with stress.

“He better get the fuck out of here, while he can still walk on his own,” I threaten.

“I’m going. You can call your grandfather off. I thought more of you than this. You’ve disappointed me,” the asshole says and that’s it. That’s It.

“I warned you asshole,” I growl right as my fist connects with his face. Immense satisfaction fills me as blood spurts from his nose, and he falls back on the stone covered patio. The chair he had been sitting in before I got here rakes loudly before toppling over itself. I kick him and would do more, but Bree is desperately grabbing at my waist, trying to pull me back.

“Jax, please! Please sweetheart, let it go. Please,” she cries and I can hear her tears and that’s the only thing that stops me. I look back at her and tears are running down her face. I don’t know why she’s so upset. Is she worried about this asshole? “He’s not worth it,” she whispers. “He’s not worth word getting back to Pops,” she whispers softer, so that only I can hear her.

I swallow down the objection boiling inside of me. I’m keeping her, but I don’t want to have to deal with the fallout of what that means before we have to. As much as it burns me to admit it…she’s right. I pull her into me, and we walk around the asshole that’s still lying on the ground. My steel-toed boot connects with him one more time as I get Bree away from here. I don’t want her breathing the same air as this asshole.





Chapter Thirty-Two





Bree





I feel like a nervous cat, walking back with Jax. We haven’t spoken since the incident with Jeff. I can still feel the anger vibrating off of him. I don’t know what to say to him. I have always heard people say don’t poke a bear when he’s angry. Right now, Jax definitely resembles a bear.

“What the hell were you doing there, Bree? I told you to stay at the apartment. Things are going to hell right now with the club, and I need to make sure you’re safe!”

“Jax, I just needed to run out and get something. I wouldn’t have been a minute if Jeff hadn’t been there. I was just leaving when you found us and—”

“It didn’t look like you were leaving. It looked like he was hurting you.”

“Jax, you’re exaggerating,” I argue.

“Those marks on your wrist say I’m not.”

Belatedly, I look down at my wrist and see the darkened skin. There will be bruises there. I don’t know what happened. Jeff has never been like he was today. I’d try to explain that to Jax, but I don’t think he’d listen—or that it would matter.

“Can we just let it go? It’s done now,” I say with a sigh, not sure how to end this argument, but just wanting it done. Tonight, was supposed to be so great. I envisioned Jax coming home and finding his clean apartment, and dinner and…

And what?

In my head, I had this vision of him hugging me while telling me that I was who he had been waiting on his whole life. It sounds crazy now. Like a stupid school-girl dream. Now, I suddenly feel embarrassed.

“What were you thinking, Bree? Jesus this is what happens when you deal with—”

“Don’t say it,” I warn him, I can’t handle hearing him say I’m too young right now.

“Say what? That you’re too damned immature to follow a fucking order?” he growls just as he opens the door to his apartment. His words feel like a slap in the face, and one I absolutely don’t deserve. When he turns to close the door, I take a breath and back up away from him.