“We do not,” Ripper said firmly, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Nyx and pulling her away from Dwight. “It’s good to see you again, Nyx. I’ve missed you.”
He was playing a part. I knew it, still watching Ripper embrace another woman made my stomach curdle.
“You can’t have her. You already got a woman,” Darryl protested. He dragged a hand through his greasy hair and glanced around the room, pausing when his eyes fell on the matriarch of the Wilcox Brigade. “Tell him, Aunt Jerrilyn. Tell him he can’t have two women when Dwight and I got none.”
Jerrilyn snorted, contempt in her eyes when she looked at her nephew. He might be a faithful member of the brigade, a true believer in the cause, but despite the ties of blood, Jerrilyn had to see that Ripper brought more to the table—brains and skills—than both her nephews combined.
“You’re going to have to take that up with Ripper,” she said, stirring the pot.
“Yeah, Darryl. You wanna take it up with me?” Ripper wrapped an arm around Nyx’s waist. “Maybe we can go outside and work things out?”
Nature might have stiffed Darryl when it came to smarts, but even he knew better than to take on Ripper in a fight.
“It’s not fair,” he grumbled, scowling at the floor rather than meeting Ripper’s eyes.
Ripper laughed. “Life ain’t fair.” He swept his hand over the curve of Nyx’s ass, then pulled her tight against his groin. “How about you and me go back to my room and get reacquainted?”
Nyx offered a slow smile, her eyelids heavy with promise as she caressed his chest. “I’d like that.”
I couldn’t breathe.
Ripper glanced at me. “Mac, you wanna join us?”
Nyx held out a hand. “Come on, sweetheart. I promise we’ll have fun.”
A threesome. A clever way to get us out of the room and away from prying eyes and ears.
Not for the first time, I wondered what an old lady would do under the circumstances. My motorcycle club romances offered little guidance about how an old lady would react if her man flaunted his infidelities under her nose. In the books, once a biker found true love, he became a reformed man-whore, one hundred percent faithful to his woman. In reality? I didn’t have a clue, but I suspected that even if he cheated, he wouldn’t rub it in her face That would be disrespectful, wouldn’t it? And from what Ripper had told me, even if they were deferential to their men in public, real life old ladies were no doormats.
Would an old lady cheerfully agree to a threesome? Maybe not. And I had an idea about how to parlay this situation to our advantage.
Instead of going along with the plan, I shook my head, vehemently rejecting the offer. Surprise flickered in Ripper’s eyes.
“Are you kidding me?” I shrieked. “You’re my old man. Mine. You don’t get to go off and fuck some skank.”
Ripper let go of Nyx and stalked toward me, his face set in harsh lines. “No, Mac.” Quiet menace filled his voice. I shivered, despite knowing that we were playacting. “You got it wrong. I get to do whatever I want. And you will do as you’re fucking told.”
Over his shoulder, I saw Tuck lean forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. The asshole loved this shit, loved seeing a man force his woman to toe the line. Jerrilyn crossed her arms over her chest, watching us with eagle eyes. Was she gauging Ripper’s command potential, assessing how he handled disaffection in the ranks? Boyd’s face was unreadable. He almost appeared bored. Only Libby looked concerned for my well-being, biting her lips and rubbing her hands together.
I shoved at Ripper’s chest, a futile gesture of defiance. “Fuck you.”
I’d forgotten how quickly Ripper could move. One second he was glowering down at me. The next, he’d coiled my hair around his fist and shoved me roughly against the wall, so hard that a nearby picture frame rattled. Despite the ominous clatter, my head didn’t thump against the wall, and the air didn’t whoosh from my lungs. Ripper’s hand cushioned my skull, and his arm absorbed most of the impact of my back striking the wall.
We’d done this once before, on the night we met. That time he hadn’t shown me any mercy. Look how far we’d come. Tears welled in my eyes, not because it hurt—it didn’t—but because even in the midst of our bogus battle, my man protected me.
“What the fuck, Mac?” he growled. His confusion was genuine. I could see it. All I had to do was follow him to our bedroom. We could end this painful charade and fill Nyx in on our plans.
“Get your hands off of me,” I said through clenched teeth.
Ripper leaned into me. “Why?” His broad back hid me from the others while his lips silently shaped the word.
“The keys,” I whispered. I recognized the instant he understood my plan. His nostrils flared, and his expression tightened. He didn’t like it one bit. The plan was fraught with risk, and I’d have to get up close and personal with Tuck in order to succeed. Put my hands on the creep. But it could work, and I saw that grudging knowledge in Ripper’s expression, too.
He released me and took a step back.
“You gonna move your ass?” he demanded, his tone hard and cold.
“No.”
“Looks like you forgot who owns you, darlin'.”
My fingers flew to my property necklace. During our brief stay with the brigade, the necklace had been my talisman against their evil, a tangible reminder of my connection to Ripper and of the righteousness of our cause.
“Do you think this necklace means that you can do anything you want, and I’ll just take it?”
Ripper shrugged. “Well, yeah.”
I wrapped my fingers around the beaded chain. If I tore it off my neck and threw it at his feet—the beads skittering every which way across the floor—what a grand, dramatic gesture that would be. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t destroy this symbol of his love for me, something that he’d made with his own hands.
Ripper’s gaze fell on the necklace. “Hand it over.”
“What?” My voice cracked, betraying my very real shock.
“You heard me. You don’t deserve to wear it.”
I gaped at him. Even if this was all an act, that was a bridge too far. He couldn’t take it away from me. He couldn’t. “Ripper, no,” I whispered, more desperate plea than defiance in my voice.
Strong hands seized my shoulders and turned me around. He swept my hair away from my neck and unfastened the necklace’s clasp. When I whirled around to face him, I saw him tuck the necklace into a pocket inside his cut.
He dropped his chin and planted his hands on his hips, as if daring me to challenge him, then he widened his eyes. Understanding dawned. Get with the program. Ripper was escalating the fight, giving me a pretext to turn to Tuck for comfort. He might not like my plan, but he trusted me to see it through. I sucked in a breath. Okay. We were all in.
“You’re an asshole.”
He snorted, unimpressed. “So?”
“And you’re not the only man in the world. I got options.”
That declaration got everybody’s attention. Over Ripper’s shoulder I saw Tuck angle his head and purse his lips, eyeing me speculatively. Dwight and Darryl elbowed each other, while Jerrilyn laughed softly to herself. Conflict must feed something in her sorry soul. Darryl licked his lips and made a lewd gesture, then high fived his brother. Good thing Ripper had his back to them and couldn’t see their antics.