“Desperate times and all that shit.” Jackal grins. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to go talk to her.”
“Not happening, so drop it.”
“Fine.” He pouts. “I’ll just go talk to the redhead myself.”
“Fine.” Except it’s not fucking fine because just as my asshole best friend stands from the table, those fucking prospects from Cobra Kai or whatever the fuck that new MC is called walk over and sit on the fucking stools next to Blondie and her friend.
Fuck my fucking life.
I jolt from my chair so fast I knock it over, but I do not give a fuck. Not one single flying fuck.
I just need to get to Blondie and get her and her friend the hell out of here before something terrible happens to one of them.
Most likely my blonde bombshell since she seems to be a goddamn magnet for disaster.
“I knew you couldn’t stay away.” Jackal slaps me on the back as I join him in weaving toward the bar. “Too tempting to ignore.”
I grit my teeth as the leader—we’ll call himBuzzcut—fingers the end of Blondie’s braid and runs a finger over her exposed shoulder. “Those punk ass motherfuckers tried to drug her last week.”
His head snaps toward the two prospects, blue eyes narrowed as a sneer pulls as his lips. “Not in my uncle’s fucking bar.”
Tank may be dead and buried, but aside from Spider—Jackal’s cousin and our brother in the Kings—this bar belongs to him, and everyone fucking knows it. What he and Spider says goes and you’d be a stupid son of a bitch to argue with either of them.
“You cover Ruby Red, I got Blondie.”
Jackal nods as we storm over to them, my blood fucking boiling when Buzzcut tries to touch Blondie again.
“We’re really not interested.” She sighs, not the least bit of fear in her tone. “My friend and I just came for a drink, nothing else.”
“Come on, sweetheart. I ain’t stupid.” He leans toward her. “You’re back with your girlfriend and not your man cause you wanted to take my hog for a spin. It’s ok, we won’t tell on you. Your man won’t—“
“Wrong.” I grab the back of his jacket and yank him off the stool, the maybe twenty-year-old kid barely a buck fifty and light as a feather. “Her man was just late. Again.”
Buzzcut spins around, his eyes a little crazed. “Look, old timer, you cock-blocked me last week when I was about to show your old lady what it’s like to be with a real man, and I ain’t about to let it happen again.”
I clench my fists. “Since when is it ok to move in on someone else’s territory? Pretty sure your president would agree that’s a bitch move.”
I see Jackal poise for a fight, position himself between the girls and the prospects, my best friend ready to throw down if needed.
“She ain’t wearing your cut, freak. Last I knew it meant she was fair game, especially in a place like this.”
“Maybe I just haven’t given it to her yet. Maybe I’m not a barbarian and wanted toaskher to be my old lady instead of planting my flag and claiming her like a fucking animal.”
“Or maybe you’re too much of a pussy to get the job done right, worried she won’t want to be tied down to a freak show like you.”
What a little bastard.
If Blondie weren’t peeking around Jackal at me, I’d clock this motherfucker so fast his goddamn head would spin, but I don’t want to scare her, don’t want her to be afraid of me.
“I’m gonna say this once and only once.” I take a step toward Buzzcut and bring my face level with his. “Stay. The fuck. Away from my girl and her friend.”
“Or else what?” He smirks in my face. “What are you gonna do about it,freak?”
“He’s gonna kick your ass and wipe the floor with whatever’s left of it, you snot-nosed little punk!”
We both blink and turn to see Ruby Red—which is what I’m now calling Blondie’s friend—standing on the stool behind Jackal trying to fucking climb over him while waving her fists in the air.
Wow.
