The club isn't a costume. It's family. Brotherhood. The only place I've belonged since coming back from overseas. The patches I wear were earned through blood and loyalty.
"If you take one step toward my sister," I say, my voice dropping to that quiet register that makes smarter men back away, "you're declaring war. Not just on me, but on the entire Iron & Blood MC."
Dylan actually laughs. "I don't give a shit about a bunch of guys playing pretend bikers in some nowhere town."
And just like that, the decision is made.
I smile. Not a pleasant expression based on how Dylan's friends take a half-step back. "Wrong answer."
My first punch connects with Dylan's jaw with a satisfying crack. He doesn't even have time to raise his hands before he crumples, unconscious before he hits the ground.
The other three stand frozen for a heartbeat, staring at their fallen friend. Then baseball cap guy lunges forward with a wild swing that I don't even bother dodging. His fist connects with my cheekbone, and I barely feel it. Nothing compared to what I've taken before.
"That all you got?" I ask him calmly.
His eyes widen in fear just before my counterpunch takes him in the solar plexus, doubling him over. A knee to the face finishes him off.
The other two come at me together, which shows slightly more intelligence but ultimately makes no difference. One grabs for my arms while the other tries to land a punch. I pivot, using the momentum of the grabber to send him sprawling into his friend. They tangle together, giving me the opening to stomp one's knee—not hard enough to break, but enough to take him out of the fight—while delivering a precise strike to the other's throat that leaves him gagging and clutching his neck.
In less than thirty seconds, all four are down. None of them even knew how to throw a proper punch. Just kids playing at being tough, who probably hit the gym twice a week and think that makes them fighters. They've never been in a real battle, never understood that true fighting isn't about muscles or bravado. It's about will and experience.
And I have plenty of both.
I turn back to Lilly and Katty, the adrenaline still coursing through me. My sister is pressed against Katty's chest, crying softly.
"Lil," I say, my voice gentler now. "I'm sorry. I should have kept my cool."
The last thing I wanted was to scare her. To make her see the violence I'm capable of. It's why I've always kept my two lives separate—the brother and the club member.
But Katty meets my eyes over Lilly's head, and what I see there isn't fear or disgust. It's approval. Maybe even admiration.
"You did what needed to be done," she says firmly. "They weren't going to back down with words."
Lilly pulls away from Katty, wiping her eyes.
"I'm not crying because I'm scared of you, Tank," she explains, her voice steadier now. "I'm crying because I hate that it came to this. That you had to deal with my problem."
"That's what brothers do, Lil. We handle problems."
The fireworks continue overhead, the booms covering the groans of the men at our feet. Dylan is still out cold.
"We need to go," Katty says, practical as ever. "When these idiots wake up, they're going to be pissed, and Dylan's dad has enough pull in this town to make things difficult."
I look at the four men on the ground, then at the fairgrounds below us, still alive with lights and music and laughter. The night is young, and the adrenaline from the fight has left me feeling more alive than I have in months.
"No," I say firmly.
Katty and Lilly both stare at me.
"No?" Katty repeats, her eyebrows drawing together.
"We're not running." I step closer to them both. "We're not letting some entitled prick and his frat boy backup dancers ruin our night."
Lilly blinks, confusion replacing her tears. "But—"
"But nothing," I cut her off gently. "You've been letting this asshole control your life for months, Lil. Making you afraid, changing your routines, keeping you looking over your shoulder. It stops tonight."
I turn to baseball cap guy, who's regained consciousness and is watching me with terrified eyes. "You and your buddies are going to drag sleeping beauty here back to wherever you came from. And you're going to tell him when he wakes up that if he shows his face near any of us again, next time I won't be so gentle."
