Chapter 11 #2
"The kind that doesn't belong in decent society," Bethany's husband replies, emboldened by liquid courage. "Criminals, deviants, and their whores."
The tension crackles like electricity, and I notice more cuts appearing at the edges of our group, prospects and full members materializing as if summoned by the brewing conflict. The husbands notice too, some of their bravado faltering.
Xavier steps between the groups, his professional calm firmly in place. "Gentlemen, I suggest you take your women home before someone says something they'll regret."
"Do you mean like calling you a faggot?" the red-faced man spits, stepping closer to Xavier. "We all knew about you in high school. The way you'd stare in the locker room. Disgusting."
Another man laughs cruelly. "Should've beaten it out of you back then. Might've fixed you."
"Always could tell you were one," a third chimes in, his words slurring. "The way you walk, talk. Everything about you screams queer."
Xavier's professional composure cracks, pain flashing across his features before he can mask it.
Before anyone can react, Zach surges forward, shouldering past Tiana. His fist connects with the red-faced man's jaw with a sickening crack. The man crumples instantly, unconscious before he hits the pavement.
"Anyone else got something to say?" Zach snarls, standing over the fallen man.
Chaos erupts. One of the husbands lunges for Zach, only to be intercepted by Tiana, who drives her knee into his groin. He doubles over, and she follows with an elbow to his back that sends him sprawling.
Bethany shrieks and grabs Tiana's hair, yanking hard. Meadow doesn't hesitate, she delivers a perfect right hook that snaps Bethany's head back, blood spraying from her nose.
"That's for high school, bitch!" Meadow yells.
I find myself facing Kaitlyn, who's clawing at me like a cornered cat. Instinct takes over, and I block her wild swing and drive my fist into her stomach, satisfaction surging through me when she gasps for air.
The parking lot becomes a battlefield. Rose tackles one of the women to the ground, pinning her with practiced ease. Vanessa and Cassandra double-team a husband who's built like a linebacker, one sweeping his legs while the other delivers a punishing blow to his sternum.
Samantha stands back-to-back with Xavier, both landing precise strikes that speak of martial arts training. "Not so helpless now, am I?" Xavier shouts, his fist connecting with a jaw.
Prospects and full members have formed a perimeter, not joining in but ensuring no one escapes or calls the police. This is club justice—swift, violent, and contained.
I spot Bethany trying to crawl away and grab her ankle, dragging her back. "Where do you think you're going?" I demand, flipping her onto her back.
"Please," she whimpers, blood streaming from her nose, mascara running down her cheeks. "I'm sorry!"
"Years too late for that," I tell her, but I release her ankle. "Get out of our town. And if I ever hear you speak about any of my family again, this will seem like a warm-up."
The fight winds down as quickly as it began. The husbands who can still stand drag their wives away, leaving behind spots of blood, torn clothing, and shattered dignity.
Xavier stands in the center of it all, looking stunned. Zach approaches him cautiously.
"You good, Doc?" he asks, knuckles bloody but eyes clear.
Xavier nods slowly. "I… Yes. Thank you. All of you."
"Nobody talks about our family like that," Samantha says fiercely, hugging her brother. "Nobody."
I survey our group, disheveled, bruised, but standing tall. Tiana's lip is split, Meadow's knuckles are swollen, and I can feel a throbbing above my eye that promises an impressive shiner tomorrow.
"So much for a drama-free girls' night," I say, and laughter ripples through the group, releasing the last of the tension.
As the others move to clean up the aftermath of the fight, Zach and Xavier find themselves standing alone near Xavier's car, the chaos of the parking lot battle fading into background noise. Suddenly, the air between them feels charged with something more intense than adrenaline from the fight.
* * *
Xavier
I look up, catching Zach staring at me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. Zach's eyes are dark, hungry, filled with something raw and undisguised. It's desire, pure and unmistakable.
Heat rushes to my face, staining my cheeks what I'm guessing is a deep crimson. I can't believe what I'm seeing, can't believe that Zach, the infamous Devil Souls enforcer, is looking at me like he wants to devour me whole.
"You didn't have to do that," I finally manage, my voice barely above a whisper. "Fight for me."
Zach steps closer, eliminating the space between us. "Yeah, I did." His voice is rough, lower than usual. "Been wanting to do a lot of things when it comes to you, Doc."
I swallow hard, my pulse racing. "Like what?"
Instead of answering, Zach reaches up, his thumb brushing across my lower lip, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "You really need me to spell it out?"
"Maybe I do," I challenge, finding courage I didn't know I possessed. "Maybe I've been waiting a long time to hear it."
The confession hangs between us for a heartbeat before Zach growls low in his throat and backs me against my car door. "Been watching you for years," he admits, his body pressing against mine. "Driving myself crazy wanting what I thought I couldn't have."
"Why couldn't you have it?" I ask, my hands tentatively settling on Zach's waist.
"You're too good for this life. Too smart. Too clean." Zach's eyes track over my face like he's memorizing every detail. "And I didn't think you'd want someone like me."
I laugh, the sound tinged with disbelief. "Are you kidding? I've had a thing for you since high school. When you'd come to football practice, wearing that leather jacket…" I shake my head. "You have no idea how many fantasies started that way."
Something dangerous flashes in Zach's eyes. "Tell me more about these fantasies, Doc."
Before I can respond, a shout from across the parking lot breaks the moment.
"Yo, Zach! We need to move before the cops show up!" One of the prospects is waving frantically.
Zach curses under his breath but doesn't step away. "This isn't over," he promises, his voice pitched for my ears only. "Not by a long shot."
"It better not be," I reply, surprising myself with my boldness.
With one last burning look that promises everything, Zach reluctantly pushes away from the car. "Give me your phone," he demands, holding out his hand.
I comply without hesitation, watching as Zach punches in his number. "Call me when you get off shift tomorrow," Zach says, handing the phone back. "I think we've got a lot to talk about."
Our fingers brush during the exchange, the brief contact sending electricity up my arm. "I will."
As Zach walks away to join the others, I lean against my car, heart pounding, body still humming with awareness. I still can't believe what just happened, can't believe that the man I've wanted from afar for so long might actually want me back.
"What was that about?" Samantha asks, appearing at my side with a knowing smirk.
I can't tear my eyes away from Zach's retreating form. "I think I just got asked out by a Devil Soul."
"About damn time," my sister replies, nudging me with her shoulder. "You've only been pining after him since forever."
"I haven't been pining," I protest weakly.
"Sure, X. Whatever helps you sleep at night." She glances between me and Zach, who's now mounting his motorcycle. "Though after tonight, I'm guessing sleep isn't what's on your mind."
I don't bother denying it. Because she's right—sleep is the furthest thing from my thoughts. All I can think about is tomorrow, and the call I'll be making as soon as my shift ends.
As the party bus pulls away, filled with cheering, battle-worn women, and Zach's motorcycle roars to life, I allow himself a moment of pure anticipation. The night may be ending, but something else, something I've wanted for longer than I care to admit, is just beginning.
* * *
Livie
We pile back onto the party bus, exhausted but exhilarated, Meadow drops into the seat beside me.
"So," she says, a knowing smile on her face, "still worried about fitting back in?"
I shake my head, watching the lights of the bar recede as we pull away. "Not anymore. I think I finally found where I belong."
"You always belonged," she corrects gently. "You just needed to remember."
In the rearview mirror, I see Zach and a few other members stopped by the police, but we manage to get away before the cops can get to us, and I know that is going to piss off a lot of people because we are no longer with our escort, but I seriously don’t feel like dealing with them right now.
My bed and snuggles with Greyson sound too good right now.
"Greyson is going to lose his mind when he sees you," Tiana remarks, gently touching the swelling above my eye.
"Worth it," I reply without hesitation.
Meadow grins, then winces at the pain it causes. "Cheers to that. And to the best damn girls' night this town has ever seen."
As we bump fists in solidarity, I feel something fundamental shift inside me—the last piece of a puzzle clicking into place. I am Olivia Bennett, daughter of Wilder, sister to Mason, Cole, and Harlan. Woman of Greyson Reed.
And God help anyone who threatens what's mine.
“Did you see the look on my brother’s face? He has been in love with Xavier since he was a teenager.” Tiana’s eyes are shining bright.
I smile at that. Love makes me so happy.
"You know, I'm kind of not done with those bitches," Trixie says suddenly, her voice cutting through our laughter.
She sits up straighter, a dangerous gleam in her eye that I recognize from childhood, the look she always got right before suggesting something that would land us all in trouble.
"Who wants to go have more fun and mess up their shit? "