I loved that look.  It made me feel beautiful, powerful and utterly feminine.

I sucked in air through my nose willing myself to stay put when I wanted nothing more than to run to him, strip him naked and fuck him blind.

“You here alone?”  He asked roughly.

I shook my head.  “Brought Kami with me.”

His eyes narrowed and I stifled a laugh.  He obviously remembered her.

“Where is she?”

“Entertaining a few of your boys.”

He smirked.  “Cox?”

“And Ripper.”

He rolled his eyes.  “Nice.”

“Cole!  Who the fuck is this bitch and why the fuck is she wearin’ a Horsemen tag?”

His head swiveled back to Christine.  “What the fuck did I say to you?  Get the fuck outta here!”

Her face went arctic.  Glacial.  “No,” She hissed.  “Tell me why this little girl is standin’ in your office wearin' a Horsemen tag!  Old ladies don’t get ‘em, kids don’t get ‘em unless they get a cut and ain't no girl ever got a cut and whores sure as fuck don’t get em.  So why the fuck does this bitch have one!"

Deuce stood up.   His Harley belt buckle sagged low on low rise, baggy jeans, jeans that were as equally holey as his white tee shirt.  To quote Kami, “H-O-T”.

"Get out," He growled.

"TELL ME WHY SHE'S WEARIN' IT!"

Deuce's fists came slamming down on his desk sending papers and file folders flying everywhere.  "Because I fuckin' gave it to her!"

Christine's head snapped sideways.  "You little fuckin' whore!" She screamed.

My mouth fell open and I took a step backwards.  This was exactly why my father didn't allow his boy's old ladies in the club unless it was a planned visit or a Sunday barbeque.

"Christine!" Deuce bellowed.  Take the money you came for and get your fuckin' ass outta here!"

Ignoring Deuce, she kept her frightening gaze on me.  "What the fuck did you have to do to get that?" She hissed.  "You some kinda kinky fucked up whore who takes on three brothers at a time?  Was that your fuckin' prize for being such a goddamn slut, for fuckin' other women's men?  You fuckin' proud of yourself you stupid little skank bitch?"

Wow.  Just…wow.  How did one respond to that?

I looked to Deuce for help.  I didn't know what to do or say, or if I should do or say anything at all.  This hadn't gone at all like I’d planned.   Not that I'd actually planned on anything specific happening, only vague scenarios all including Deuce without pants on and being really happy to see me.  Being screamed at by Deuce's wife, I can honestly say, hadn't crossed my mind.

"Christine," He growled low.  Scary low.  "Only gonna say this one more time.  Get your fuckin' ass outta my club."

"I'm gonna bleed you dry," She hissed.  "Gonna take everything you fuckin' have, gonna take your kids, your money, and when I tell the fuckin' cops what goes on round here, I'm gonna take your fuckin' freedom."

This had gone past uncomfortable and well into hazardous.  I should never have come here.  Since they were busy glaring at one another I started backing out of the room and backed right into a hard body.

The biker standing behind me I recognized.  His name was Mick and I had seen him here and there growing up.  His messy black hair hung long.  He had pretty green eyes and a well trimmed goatee.  He was tall, leanly muscled and looked extremely pissed off.

“Prez?”  He asked.  “You need help with this bitch?”

Deuce was rounding his desk and advancing on Christine.  She met him head on, swinging her purse through the air.  He ducked, grabbed her purse strap, and barreled into her.  She went up and over his shoulder, screaming and flailing.

Deuce, with Christine, stalked across the room.  Mick and I hurried out of the way.  As soon as Deuce was gone, Mick turned to me.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He growled.

My mouth opened but no sound came out.  What?

He shook his head, glaring at me.  “Thought Deuce learned his lesson when Preacher put him the hospital but, christ, the two of you just keep goin’ back for more.”

My heart stopped beating.  “What did you say?” I whispered.

“Your old man, babe.  Capped him twice, he nearly bled out.  He was in surgery for a fuckin’ minute. Needed a transfusion.  Was in the hospital for weeks.”

I blinked rapidly, trying to process everything he'd just said.  Shot him twice?  Bled out.  Surgery.  Transfusion.

“Because of me?”  I whispered. My voice caught and my eyes filled with tears.  I hadn’t known.  If I had, I would have stayed away from him.  Never ever would I have put Deuce in danger.  God, I was so stupid.  Stupid to push him into having sex with me.  Stupid to think my father wouldn't know.  He always knew, he knew everything.

☼☼☼

“Go,” Deuce demanded, pushing his wife toward her car.  “Now.”

“Who is that?” She screeched.  He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing.  God, this fucking woman.

“She is none of your fuckin’ business, bitch.  Now fuckin’ go.”

“I fuckin’ saw the way you were lookin’ at her!  You’ve never looked at me that way! Never!”

“Never looked at you like much of anything cuz you’re not much of anything ‘cept a crazy fuckin’ bitch.”

She came at him, fake nails flying.  Grabbing her shoulders, he threw her up against her car.  "Get the fuck outta here!" He bellowed.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” She demanded.  “What’s she got that I don’t?”

He let her go and backed away from her.  “What’s wrong with you?” He sneered.  “You’re not her, that’s what’s wrong with you.  What’s she got that you don’t?  Bitch, she’s got me and you never fuckin' did.”

He watched her suck in air.  She blinked rapidly trying to stop the tears he knew were coming.  He wanted to care, he really did, but he didn't.  Not anymore.  Too much ugly shit had gone down between them over the years, for too many fucking years.  Met her at twenty five, married her when she got pregnant, lived in misery with her ever since.  There is only so much nagging, screaming and crying a man can take.  He had stopped fucking her years ago and now he could barely stomach looking at her.

"Leavin' you Christine, gonna move into the cabin," He said quietly.  "Can't do this shit no more.  Haven't slept at home in over a year, you been showin' up here demandin' money, throwin' attitude around and just plain pissin' me off with your fuckin' threats.  Can't do it no more."

She put her hand on her throat and her giant diamond engagement ring caught the sun.  He had taken his ring off years ago, not to pick up women, that had never been a problem, but because looking at it made him sick.

"You gave her a tag," She whispered hoarsely.  "You don't let any of your boys give their women tags."

He stared at her.  "She doesn’t belong to one of my boys, she's fuckin’ mine."

It hit him then how right that sounded.  Four years had gone by since he'd been inside her, four years of thinking about her, wondering what she was doing, who she was doing.

Always thinking about her.

“Cole,” She whispered.  “Don’t do this.  We can make it work, we’ve done it before.”

"Go," He barked.  "Don't fuckin' come back here."

He left her crying and stalked back inside.  He had just reached his office when what he heard from inside made his blood boil.

“Yeah babe.  He almost died.  Because of you.  So I’m standin’ here, lookin’ at you, wonderin’ why the fuck he thinks you’re fuckin’ worth gettin’ shot for cuz I sure as fuck ain't seein’ it.  You got a golden pussy or somethin’?  Or was it the fuckin' innocent act he’s likin'?”

“What the fuck,” He seethed.

Mick whirled around.  A quick glance at Eva only enraged him further.  She was shaking, trembling, tears pouring down her face.

Mick met him glare for glare.  “She needed to know what the fuck you'd gone through just to get some underage Demon pussy who ain’t all that anyway.”

He saw red.  He saw mother-fucking-red.

He swung, his right fist then his left then his right again.  Mick blew backwards with every hit until he ran out of room and hit wall.  Grabbing Mick’s shirt collar he got up in his face.

“Take off your fuckin’ cut and get the fuck outta my club.”

Mick’s eyes went wide.  “You can’t -

He swung his fist into Mick’s jaw and the brother’s face whipped right and hit brick.  “I fuckin’ can.  You got no idea what you just messed with.  No fuckin’ clue.  You think you know but you fuckin’ don’t cuz I didn't tell you shit about it cuz it's none of your fuckin' business.  So you take off your fuckin’ cut and go the fuck home and when I fuckin’ feel like it, I’ll send Cox to bring you back.”

Still holding Mick’s shirt he yanked him away from the wall and swung him out of his office.  Mick hit the floor and went sliding across the room.  Jase jumped out the way and Mick crashed into a pool table.

“Get him outta here,” He growled to no one in particular.  “Anyone else got somethin’ to say to Eva or somethin’ to say about her you’re gonna answer to my fuckin’ fist.  We fuckin' clear?”

He received a series of grunts and nods during which he slammed the doors closed and locked them.

“Eva, babe, look at me.”

She shook her head.  “I should leave,” She whispered brokenly.  His chest went tight.  No way was he letting her leave.

“Eva,” He said forcefully.  “Fuckin’ look at me!”

Hugging herself, she turned away from him.  “I got you shot,” She whispered.

Fuck.

“EVA, FUCK!  FUCKIN’ LOOK AT ME BEFORE I SPANK THE FUCKIN’ SHIT OUTTA YOU!”

Her head jerked up and her narrowed eyes zoomed in on him.  He grinned.