Chapter 49 Jim
I slowly and carefully strapped my fists, feeling the anger curl through me. I knew I could hurt myself with the amount of rage I was containing in my body. I definitely could hurt someone else. Several someones. Very specific someones. Just not the someone in front of me.
Horse held my glove for me to put on. He was our tech guy. He hid his nerdiness well behind the idiot facade, but there wasn’t much that went on in the town that he didn’t know about. Having the queen of gossip as his sister also helped him stay up to date.
“What happened to her?” he asked quietly, pulling the Velcro tight.
“Daisy? Panic attack,” I told him after he nodded.
“I’m guessing it was bad?” he asked, slipping the second glove on.
I nodded. “I had to go and pick her up from the side of the road. By the way, do you know if her car and my bike were picked up?” I explained in a dead voice. I had to keep things locked up, compartmentalised. If I didn’t, then the wrong people would get hurt. Been there, done that.
Horse nodded. “Tinker’s sent some apprentices out with the tow truck.” He tapped my wrist and stepped back. “Do you know what set her off?”
“Molly told her it was her fault that the baby died,” I replied, hitting the gloves together, and stood up.
“Fuck! Her own mother said that shit?”
I turned on him, and growled, “Molly is not her mother. She’s forfeited that role by saying that shit.”
Horse held up his hands. “Alright, you’re right. That hag is not a mother,” He agreed, then huffed. “Do you need to spar?” he offered. “I can find a spare set of gloves.”
I shook my head. “I’ll hurt someone. Just leave me with the bag,” I told him
He stepped back and nodded. “Midwife, did Daisy say exactly what Molly said?” he asked carefully.
I spoke low and slow. “The words she said were ‘she told me I wasn’t allowed to be jealous of Dylan, because I couldn’t keep my baby alive.
’” I glanced at Horse out of the side of my eyes.
“Daisy had asked to handle this herself,” I warned him as his face pinched with anger.
He turned around and punched a bag with his bare fist, then walked out.
“Bear! Make sure he doesn’t interfere,” I ordered our Sergeant at Arms. I trusted him to control our brother. The big man glared at me and grunted.
“Don’t you cause shit either, Bear. This is Daisy’s fight,” I bellowed after them, then muttered to myself, “I’m just the fucking army that’s backing her up.”
I took a centering breath and launched into the bag, imagining various faces of new enemies in the leather. Pouring my anger into the combinations.