“Can Omen get enough stock?” Whizz asks, brushing his dark blond hair out of his face. He’s growing a beard, which makes him look like Grizzly fucking Adams, but who the fuck am I to judge?
“Says so,” Rav replies.
As well as being President of the Tennessee chapter, Omen is also the National Chapter president in the US. He keeps shit running like clockwork, leaving us to worry about the UK.
Hatchet, his sergeant-at-arms is as unhinged as Fury. He hacked six men to death when he was a prospect using just a hatchet. I don’t know the full story, but I know every time I hear it, the details get more embellished. He’s become a living fucking legend.
Flash, their road captain, is a flashy fucker. He doesn’t look like a biker. He’s all about well-tailored clothes, expensive jewellery and Italian made shoes. The few times I’ve met him, I liked him. He’s a brother, so it doesn’t matter what weird shit he’s into. What matters is his willingness to bleed for his club, which he’s proven time and time again.
Chains and Crank are the secretary and treasurer. Crank is good with numbers. He was some big shot accountant before he joined the club and like me, he can make money disappear that shouldn’t be able to disappear. He and I talk a lot, exchanging notes on how to launder the dirty money that comes through the club’s coffers. I don’t know how Chains got his name, but the guy is quiet. He barely spoke the last time I met him.
“Anything else we can do to help?” Titch questions.
“Howler says not at this point, but we’ll be ready in case he does. Fucker rode his club south when we needed help with Blackwood. Ain’t about to leave him pissing in the wind.”
I agree. All our UK chapters went over and above to protect us when Blackwood took Lucy from Nox. We were only able to wipe that smug cunt off the map because of the help of our brothers.
The meeting winds down and I head out of the room, snagging my phone from the box on the table outside the door. I check there’s no calls or messages on the screen before sliding it back into my jeans pocket.
As I step into the common room, my eyes move around the room and my stomach clenches as my eyes lock on her.
Briella is sitting at one of the tables with Sasha and Lucy. Nox’s sister, Bailey, is also there, her two girls running around the room, playing with Lily-May. I can’t drag my eyes from Briella as I stalk towards the bar my hands suddenly clammy, my tongue feeling too big for my mouth. She looks fucking good, her dark hair piled on top of her head, loose tendrils falling around her face. Her eyes shift and come to me and for a moment, I’m mesmerised by her, unable to look away. I wonder what she would look like around my cock…
I shake myself.
Fuck me, I can’t be thinking shit like that. Guilt tears through me, not just because she’s young, but also because she’s Levi’s sister. It’s a betrayal to think this shit.
As I approach the bar, Kyle moves over to me, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Briella is also moving. I turn slightly, watching as she strides towards me, her head held high, an air of defiance about her that makes my cock take notice.
She’s wearing a black vest top that has a red skull on it and a pair of black jeans that are so tight I can see every contour of her shapely thighs. Around her waist is a metallic studded belt and a pair of Doc Martens on her feet. She has bangles around her wrists and a necklace with a dagger pendant around her neck. She looks fucking stunning and my body itches with need to have her.
I watch as she sidles up to the side of me, trying to project confidence, but I can see the uncertainty in her eyes.
“Hey,” she says and I beckon Kyle over.
“Whiskey. Neat,” I tell him and he moves away to get my drink.
“I’ll have the same,” she says.
I give her my attention. “You think that’s a good idea, considering the other night?”
Her kohl-rimmed eyes narrow on me at my words.
“Did I ask for your opinion?”
“No, but you’re getting it anyway, since it was me who had to drag your arse out of that fucking club.”
She flinches slightly at my words and I feel triumph that I managed to get a reaction.
“You don’t get to tell me how to live my life,” she hisses. Her tits strain against her top as her chest heaves. She’s like a raging bull to a red flag.
I don’t, but I’m going to because Levi is right. Something is going on with her and I can’t sit by and watch while she continues on this journey of self-destruction. Although why I give a fuck, I don’t know.
“I do when your shit starts affecting others,” I find myself saying. I’m not sure if that’s true or not, but it’s the words I speak.
Kyle slides our drinks on the bar top and she grabs her glass, snapping out a, “Fuck you, Daimon.”
She turns to move away and I snag her wrist, stopping her. My grip isn’t hard, but it isn’t entirely gentle either. My eyes scan the room, making sure we’re not being watched before I release her.
“You need to calm your shit down, Brie. This partying and whatever the fuck you’re doing has to stop.”
“Let go of me,” she snarls like a wild cat.
The pout of her mouth catches my attention, drawing my eyes, and fuck me, if I don’t want to kiss her. That perfect Cupid’s bow and the fullness of her lips is every man’s wet dream.
I push that thought right out of my head. She’s not mine to have, and even if she was, I wouldn’t go there. She’s too young and she’s a brother’s sister.
I release her, and she pulls her arm against her chest, as if my touch burnt her skin, glaring at me. I know how she feels because my skin feels like it’s prickling.
“I can take care of myself,” she tells me, and as if to prove that point she throws her head back and drains her glass in a couple of gulps.
Motherfucker.
My anger flares at how flippant she’s being. This is her life she’s putting on the line. I don’t care that she risked me and Kyle, but I do care that this destructive behaviour could lead to her ending up face down in a fucking ditch.
Leaning into her, I growl, “If I hadn’t been there the other night, fuck knows what could have happened.”
Her face pales as the severity of my words sinks in, but she holds her chin high and I see the steel in her spine as she straightens. The fire in her eyes both enthrals me and pisses me off. She isn’t someone who will back down easily, but neither am I.
“Since when do you give a crap what I do with my life?”
“Since you nearly got yourself raped in the middle of some dive club.”
Briella jolts, her throat working as she stares at me. “That wasn’t—”
“He had his hand inside your underwear while you were practically unconscious, and no fucker in that building was moving to stop it.”
Her eyes dart around the common room, as if she’s scared of being overheard, but no one is paying us any attention. To anyone watching, we look like we’re talking at the bar, but I doubt the conversation looks friendly. She’s spitting at me like a feral animal. Kyle, I notice, has moved to the other end of the bar and is busying himself with drying glasses.
“I was in complete control.”
“Really?” I arch a brow, “because it sure as fuck did not look that way from where I was standing, sweetheart.”