Flipping Bucket off, I spun around. “I am not part of your damn club!” I yelled. “And either is my mother!”

As Deuce stalked toward me, his booted steps heavy and deliberate, his nostrils flaring, I did everything in my power not to shrink under his angry glare. Deuce angry was not a pretty sight; it was in fact absolutely terrifying.

“Listen to me,” Deuce growled quietly, having reached me. “I ain’t got time for your mouth right now. We got a problem with the local law that I ain’t got a hold of yet. So if you think I’m gonna let you walk out that fuckin’ door only for somethin’ to happen to you because shit’s goin’ down right now, you’re stupid as fuck.”

Deuce pointed to the bar. “March your mouthy little ass back on over there, sit the fuck down next to King Stupid, and keep on doin’ whatever the fuck it was you were doin’. And get damn comfy doin’ it, ’cause you’re gonna be here ’til Wednesday.”

My jaw dropped. “Wednesday!” I shouted, forgetting in my anger that Deuce’s temper was not something anyone wanted to mess around with. “I have to be back at work on Tuesday!”

“Tough fuckin’ shit,” he said, already turning away from me. Ignoring me. Treating me like I was one of his motherfucking leather-clad minions.

“You fucking asshole!” I screamed, forgetting myself entirely. “You are not my prez! You are not my father! You are not my fucking boss! You cannot tell me what the fuck to do anymore!”

Slowly, menacingly, Deuce turned back around to face me. “I ain’t your father?” He sneered. “Who’s been keepin’ clothes on your back and food in your belly all these years? Who’s been payin’ for that expensive-as-shit apartment in Cali? Who’s been sending cash your way, keepin’ you and ZZ ahead of the motherfuckin’ game?”

“I’ve told you I don’t need your money!” I screamed, uncaring that my voice was bordering on shrill. I was trembling from head to toe and tears were forming. “I tell you every goddamn week when you call and so does ZZ! Whatever jobs you’ve been sending him on, he seems to be doing just fucking fine! But you have to stick your fat head in where it doesn’t belong because God forbid you don’t control every single little thing around you! Well, I don’t need you, Deuce! I don’t need this club! I never fucking did!”

Nostrils flaring, his face red with rage, Deuce stared me down. “Cage!” he bellowed, his eyes still on me. “Get your latest piece of ASS the fuck outta my face before I start blowin’ fuckin’ holes in skulls!”

“You sexist, self-righteous FUCK!” I screamed, and lunged forward, lunging for Deuce. I didn’t know what I was going to do once I got to him, but I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. I wanted to get to him, punch him, strangle him, kick him in the balls, something, anything. I just wanted to hurt him.

But I never reached him. I was tackled from the side, lifted straight up off the floor, and carried quickly from the room.

“I hate you!” I screamed in Deuce’s direction. “I fucking hate you!”

• • •

Cage threw open his bedroom door, stalked inside, kicked it shut behind him, and tossed Tegen’s thrashing body onto his bed. She immediately scrambled into a sitting position and made to jump off the bed but he was on her in a flash, yanking her legs out from under her, straddling her hips, and holding her arms out at her sides.

His heart thudding erratically inside his chest, Cage glared down at her. He couldn’t care less that she’d gotten in yet another verbal brawl with his father. He couldn’t care less that she’d been only inches from slugging Deuce in the face and subsequently getting her ass kicked for it. He couldn’t give two motherfucking shits that Tegen was never going to change; she was always going to act before thinking, mouthing off to anyone, anywhere, not realizing the consequences. He didn’t even care that she hated the club.

All he cared about, all he could think about, the one thing that stuck out over everything his old man and she had shouted at each other was…

ZZ.

No one, not one fucking brother, not even Mick knew where ZZ was. Deuce had told everyone awhile back that ZZ wasn’t their concern anymore and to stop asking questions because he wasn’t going to answer them.

Who’s been sending cash your way, keepin’ you and ZZ ahead of the motherfuckin’ game?

What did that fucking mean? That ZZ was in Cali? Or that ZZ was in Cali with Tegen?

“Get off me, you stupid fuck!” Tegen screamed, trying desperately to pull her arms out from under his grip.

Stupid. Fuck.

He lost it. He just fucking lost it. His head was already a mess, feeling all sorts of crazy shit he wasn’t familiar with, and Tegen’s last stab at him sent him over the damn edge.

“ZZ!” he roared. “Motherfuckin’ ZZ!”

Tegen blinked up at him.

“What?” she whispered.

“You heard me,” he gritted out. “Now, fuckin’ spill. You and ZZ in Cali together? Livin’ together?”

She hesitated; just a tiny shift of her eyes, a movement so small he wouldn’t have caught it if he hadn’t been staring directly at her. Cursing, he shoved off her and got to his feet. Running his hands through his hair, he turned around and before he could think, he just reacted and sent his booted foot straight into the wall. Feelings were coursing through him, feelings he couldn’t decipher, along with a sudden rage he couldn’t control.

He spun back around and found Tegen sitting upright in his bed, glaring at him.

Tegen. ZZ. It wasn’t computing.

It was Tegen, for Christ’s sake. The bitch had been obsessed with him her entire fucking life and now, this weekend, with everything that had happened…

He was feeling her. He was motherfucking into this. And all along she’d had someone back home, not just anybody but one of his motherfucking brothers.

He’d been so sure she still loved him. How the fuck had he read that wrong?

“You fuckin’ him?” he demanded.

Her green eyes blazed with pure rage; she was working up to launching herself straight off his bed, nails ready to claw his eyes out, whatever it took. He had to hand it to her—for being such a slip of a woman, she had balls of steel. But what the fuck ever, he didn’t give two fucks how pissed she was about anything anymore. All these years he’d been taking flack for something he’d done while she’d been secretly shacking up with one of his brothers.

Her bullshit was going to end right the fuck now.

“Answer me, bitch!” he yelled.

She glared at him, unblinking, unmoving, without remorse. He could see it in her eyes. She didn’t give a fuck that she’d just jumped beds. She hated the club that fucking much. She hated him that much.

“Answer me!” he roared.

“Yes!” she hissed.

SHIT! Why did he even care?

She hadn’t been Teacup in a long time, she was just another bitch, another fucking whore who jumped from brother to brother.

So he’d liked fucking her, so fucking what? So ZZ liked fucking her too, who the fuck cared?

He was going to puke. He was going to motherfucking puke.

For the first time he actually wanted a girl to stick around and despite all the fighting, he liked spending time with her. Jesus. He’d wanted more. He’d stupidly wanted what his brothers had, he’d wanted it for a long time now, and he’d stupidly wanted it from Tegen.

He was a fucking moron. His old man was right. He was King fucking Stupid.

“Looks like you turned out just like your fuckin’ mom after all,” he spat, hitting her where he knew it would be the most painful.

He didn’t wait for a response, her eyes went saucer-wide and he whipped around, yanked open the door, and stormed off down the hall.

“You knew!” he yelled as he passed into the main room, pointing to where his father stood. “You fuckin’ knew Tegen was in Z’s bed,” he continued, “and you didn’t say a motherfuckin’ word to me!”

“What? Tegen and ZZ what?”

Cage noticed for the first time that Danny and Ripper had shown up along with their daughter, and Danny looked…not happy.

“Tegen’s what?” she demanded. “With who?”

He ignored her. He was too pumped up; he felt inside how Tegen had looked when facing off with his old man, trembling with rage, ready at any moment to explode and hoping like fucking hell when he did explode he’d be taking his father out with him.

Deuce’s eyes narrowed. “You for real, right now? Am I a fuckin’ datin’ service? You been stickin’ your shit in any hole that’ll take it, so what the fuck makes Tegen any damn different?”

Cage imploded.

“BECAUSE SHE’S TEGEN!” he roared. “She’s fuckin’ mine!”

His father’s unapologetic, unwavering stare did nothing but further upset him.

“Are you gonna fuckin’ say something’?” Cage demanded. “Or you just gonna stand there?”

“Where is ZZ?” Danny interjected, shoving in between him and their father. “In San Francisco?”

Cage opened his mouth, ready to tell her to go fuck herself, when Ripper beat him to it. Glaring, Ripper grabbed Danny’s arm and yanked her out from between them.

“Why do you give a fuck where ZZ is?” Ripper growled.

“Oh, shut up!” Danny snapped, yanking her arm from his grip. “We’ve all been worried about him. Don’t act like this is about anything more than that!”

“Z lives with her,” Deuce said and all eyes shot to him. “When he’s not on the road, and he’s on the road more often than not.”

“On the road doin’ what?” Ripper asked.

Deuce turned to Ripper, staring at the man but didn’t so much as blink. Cage, Ripper, and everyone else in the club knew exactly what that meant.

“Jesus,” Ripper said under his breath. “Z? Z’s doin’ that shit?”