He grinned, giving me one more sloppy smooch before allowing me to leave.
I walked swiftly to my car, fighting the tears that wanted to pour out of my eyes. I always walked away from Diego’s club crying—scolding myself for sleeping with the enemy and getting myself involved with a rival MC, but today felt different. The tears I was battling today were saturated in fear—fear of those who I knew wanted to hurt me. How could I be this stupid? Why did I think this would ever work? Now he wanted me to be his Old Lady forever and wanted to negotiate with my brother for me. I don’t even want to think about what would happen if Scythe found out.
I rummaged through my purse, fighting receipts, make-up, and other feminine trinkets to find my keys. When I finally felt the cold metal on my fingertips, I grabbed them with shaking hands and barely held on as I fought to put my key in the lock on my car.
This used to be my mom’s car, but after she passed away a few years back, I inherited it because I haven’t been on the back of a bike since Midas died. My brother and father gave it to me because they wanted me to stay safe.
I calmed my hand down enough to finally stick the key in the lock, but before I could pull open the door somebody grabbed me from behind and slipped a cold hand over my mouth.
A muffled scream escaped through my attacker’s fingers, but no amount of fighting could break me free of the constricting hold they had around me.
“God dammit, Faith, would you stop screaming and trying to kick my dick?”
Fuck.
My whole body went incredibly still.
I knew that voice. I knew it all too well.
I whipped around to find my brother’s cold, angry eyes boring into me.
“Jimmy? What are you doing here?” I squeaked.
My brother smirked, noticing the fear in my eyes. “I think the better question is, what the fuck are you doing here, Faith?”
Chapter Eight
Holden
I stood outside of The Devil’s Watering Hole, staring at the closed sign. The hours on the building clearly stated they were open between ten in the morning and midnight, but it was after twelve and nobody was here. I could see the clubhouse in the distance; it was close enough to the bar that the club could keep an eye on it, but far enough away that it wasn’t off-putting to the public. Not that they let the public in. As Faith stated when I first saw her again, strangers weren’t allowed inside the bar unless they were friends with the club.
I started to wonder if anyone was going to show up, when I saw Scythe’s bike speeding up the road with an old, black, beat-up Buick trailing behind it.
Scythe parked his bike and threw his helmet to the ground before turning and kicking his back tire. He was swearing incoherent things to himself as the car pulled up alongside him.
“Stop it, Jimmy; you’re acting insane!” Faith screeched as she exited the car.
Scythe turned toward her and started screaming. “I’m insane? I’m fucking insane! I’m not the one fucking the leader of the Saints, Faith. That’s all you. What the fuck are you thinking? Do you know how much danger you’ve put yourself in? Now that you’ve been labeled, Diego’s Old Lady, he’s not going to let you go—not alive anyway.”
Faith stopped walking toward him, her eyes immediately migrating to the ground. I could see the tears falling down her face, and it took everything I had not to run over there to comfort her. My girl was hurting, and I couldn’t do a thing about it because I was dead—allegedly.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I don’t know what else to say but I’m sorry.”
“Why, Faith? Why would you do something this stupid? Do you have a death wish? Are you doing this to get back at me?”
Faith briefly lifted her eyes. “Get back at you for what, Jimmy?” she asked. Her tear-filled eyes, now replaced with hatred, sliced through Scythe like she was trying to fillet his skin. It was unreal how much animosity those big brown eyes could hold when she was angry.
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
“No.”
“God dammit, fucking say it out loud!” she screamed. She raced towards him, hitting him in the chest after every sentence. “Say, you did nothing to save Midas.” Punch. “Admit that you’re the reason he got killed.” A few angry pounds on his chest, before she completely lost it. “It’s your fault he’s not with me anymore, Scythe. Everything turned to shit when you got involved with the club business, and Midas was an innocent casualty in this insane war you’ve started with the other MCs. I wish it was you that had died that day. Midas didn’t deserve to die because your club has a hard-on for illegal shit.”
Scythe looked at her like she had gone completely crazy. And maybe she had, but I had to admit, hearing her be so passionate and emotionally wrecked over my death hit me hard. I couldn’t stop the emotions flooding my insides, and I had to swipe away a tear before it fell down my face. This was one moment I was glad I blended into the shadows so well.
“I’m not saying shit, Faith. I’m not feeding this little delusion you got floating around in your head about me.”
“Because you’re a chickenshit. You’re a fucking coward and you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“When was the last time you went and saw dad, huh? When was the last time you went to mom’s grave or had dinner with the family? You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself, Jimmy. That’s why you’re alone and nobody will ever love you. You’re a goddamn coward and you don’t deserve that patch on your shoulder. You’ll never be half the president Dad was.”
Scythe took two steps forward and backhanded Faith across the face. He hit her so hard that it sent her flying to the ground. She held her cheek, tears rushing from her eyes even faster.
I immediately reacted before I even realized what I was doing. I left the solitude of the shadows I was hiding in, ran up behind Scythe, tapped him on the shoulder, and the second he turned around, I fucking decked his ass, sending him sprawling to the ground just like he did to his sister.
Nobody should ever hit a woman. I don’t care if she’s his sister or not, no man has the right to hit a woman, period.
“What the ever-loving fuck?” Scythe growled as he quickly scrambled up off the ground. He covered his eye with his left hand, sheltering it from me hitting him again.
“I don’t give two shits if you’re her brother or not. No man has the right to hit a woman. If you hit her again, you won’t be getting up next time.”
Both Faith and Scythe stared at me with astonished eyes. I was breathing hard, anger seeping out of every pore on my body. Faith already had a bruise forming under her eye where he had hit her, but Scythe, hell, his whole left eye was now purple and swollen shut. I hit that motherfucker hard. I don’t care if he was my best friend back in the day. The Scythe I knew before would’ve never touched his sister like that, no matter how mad she made him.
“Hey, it’s okay, Stranger,” Faith’s voice trembled as she carefully stood up behind me. “I deserved it.”
I whipped around, grabbing her gently by her shoulders. “No, you didn’t.” When I saw the guilt leave her eyes, I turned back toward her brother and held my ground.