Chapter 8 Griffin
I walk outside, forcing myself to put thoughts of my woman in the back of my mind.
Now, is not the time. I need to focus and not show weakness in front of a bunch of men who know jack-shit about me.
I may be their leader, but they still don’t trust me.
There are five of them here. Out of that five, two he felt he could trust with his life.
The other three were still wildcards and he needed to keep that in mind at all times.
I walked to them, my face blank as I let my gaze rake over each and every single one.
My shoulder is aching like hell from being grazed earlier by a bullet.
I’ve had worse pain, but the annoyance wasn’t one that I wanted right now.
I need to concentrate on the fact that someone had tried to take me out. I need answers.
“Jesus Christ, Prez,” C called, climbing off his bike. The tall bastard stood in front of him, his blonde hair tied up in a messy bun that made him look like some kind of Viking who’d discovered hair ties. “What the hell are you doing here of all places?”
I cock a brow up in question. “That’s hardly the first thing you should be asking me, asshole.”
C folded his heavily tattooed arms. “Oh yeah? What should I be asking?”
“Maybe you could lead with the question of why in the hell I got shot at, in broad daylight by some motherfucker who decided to try his luck outside my old lady’s house,” I growl, not liking the disrespect.
I literally watched as every single man went stiff with my response.
I felt their eyes on me, but I ignored it and stared C down instead.
That is until Cowboy lets out a low whistle and pushes his hair out of his face.
“Hold up. You brought a woman to town with you? Why hasn’t she been at the club with you? ”
My mouth curves in a smile, apparently C didn’t share that I’ve claimed Georgia. Interesting. I guess it’s up to me. “I didn’t have a woman until I claimed one this morning.”
Their heads turned in unison, like something out of that exorcism movie. The only one who wasn’t shocked was C, but he looked … frustrated. Right now, you could hear a pin drop—if not for the sounds of disbelief escaping a couple of them.
Scorpion stood up and looked at me in shock. He would, I guess, since he knows me best. Claiming a woman has never been on my list of things to do. Not until Georgia, that is. “You claimed one?” he asks.
Hades barks out a laugh. Scorpion mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like he’s saying holy shit. That makes me laugh. Even Skeeter, who hasn’t said one word to me before, shakes his head.
I grin at them, lighting a cigarette and taking a draw. I need something to keep me from going back inside and fucking all of my frustrations out on Georgia’s sweet body. “Should I ask why my men look so shocked?”
Scorpion holds his hands up in surrender and steps forward, his leather vest creaking as he walks.
Scorpion is built like a weapon—lean, dark-eyed, and dangerous.
A scar runs from the corner of his mouth down to his chin, and it deepens when he smiles.
“Don’t look at me, Prez. I don’t give a damn what you do.
Just never thought I’d see the day you claimed an old lady—especially after being here, for only two days. ”
I clap Scorpion on his back, hard, taking his hand in mine in a quick exchange. It’s damn good having him here in Tennessee with me. He was from my old club and the fact he trusted me enough to follow me means the fucking world. “Well, she’s a hell of a woman.”
Scorpion snorts. “She must be. When do I get to meet her?”
“Soon,” I respond, taking another drag off my cigarette. “She’s a little gun-shy.”
That earned a few chuckles that don’t sit well with me. They sound pissed and annoyed. Which oddly enough, is starting to match my own mood—which was great when Georgia was with me.
Hades—tall, dark hair, with arms covered in flames and skull tattoos—leans against his bike. His grin was pure trouble. “Gun-shy, huh? Just a warning Prez. If she lives here, she’s probably putting a curse on your ass right now.”
The others laugh in agreement, making me feel like I’m missing the joke. “Explain,” I grumble.
Hades shrugs, still wearing his shit-eating grin, and clearly enjoying himself. “Everyone knows about the old woman and her granddaughter who live here. They’re bad news, man.”
I move to step closer to him, smoke curling from my mouth. “Explain more,” I order quietly, trying to keep control of my anger.
Hades must be smarter than I’m giving him credit for, because he starts to hesitate before opening his fucking mouth. Cowboy steps up, scratching the back of his neck. “What he means,” Cowboy begins carefully, “is folks say they’re witches or somethin’.”
“Why in the fuck would they say that?” I snap.
“Georgia—uh, the granddaughter—she told Bo Ripley that his barn was gonna burn down. Said she saw it in a dream or some psychic vision crap. Bo laughed his ass off for two weeks, teased her in town every damn day. Then, a month later, the damn barn burned to the ground. Arson investigator said it was a bad breaker. But Bo? He’s been swearin’ ever since that girl hexed him. ”
My body goes tight. I’m starting to see why Georgia seems so timid.
Cowboy keeps going. “After that, the two of ’em—Georgia and her grandmother—don’t talk much to anyone. Folks still hire her for her paintin’ and the community center stuff, but… they do it out of fear, you know? Keep your enemies closer kind of deal.”
I flick my cigarette away, the ember flaring in the dirt, before I stomp it into the ground with the sole of my boot.
My voice drops low and dangerous. “I guess I’ll be visiting this Bo Ripley later,” I announce.
Their humor immediately vanishes. I’m guessing everyone could tell from my tone that I mean business.
It’s a good call, because I do. I’m about to make sure this Bo Ripley gets my message so deeply that he regrets it when I leave him still breathing.
Scorpion whistles low. “Damn, you’re serious about her.”
I shoot him a look that leaves no room for question. “Dead serious.”
Before anyone could say more, flashing red and blue lights cut across the yard.
“Looks like the cops have made it,” Hades complains.
I turn my head, eyes narrowing as a sheriff’s cruiser pulls up. Dust swirls as its lights reflect off the chrome of our bikes. I watch as the driver steps out—tall, square-jawed, clean-cut, the kind of man who looked like he ironed his jeans. Jesus.
C walks up first, greeting the man with a nod. “Davis,” he says, shaking the other man’s hand, hitting a fucking nerve.
My attention sharpens at once. Davis. The same name Georgia had mentioned earlier.
This wasn’t just some small-town cop. This was someone who knows my woman and she knows him—maybe too well.
That shit isn’t going to fly any longer.
I won’t let it. To make matters worse, the guy was good-looking in that shiny, safe kind of way—the kind of man a small-town girl like Georgia might want.
I felt a dark satisfaction curl through me as I imagined carving his pretty face up.
I wouldn’t kill him. Georgia would probably get pissed about that.
No, my aim would be just to ruin his pretty boy face a little.
Davis’s gaze flicks to me before moving to the house behind me. “What about Nana and Georgia? Are they okay?”
I step up to him. “They’re fine. I wouldn’t let anything happen to them,” I growl, changing my mind and wanting to kill the fucker right now.
I don’t like that he called Georgia’s grandmother Nana.
Sure, I do. I’m allowed. Afterall, they’re my family now.
There’s no way in hell this man should get that privilege.
Davis’s eyes narrow on me. “And you are?”
“I’m the new president of the Kings of Anarchy.”
That earns me a tight, unhappy smile from the cop. “We like our town quiet and orderly. That isn’t exactly how your club operates lately.”
I shrug like I don’t have a care in the world. “Don’t worry about my club. That’s not your place.”
Davis moves into me now. “Making sure this town stays safe is my place. Most of the trouble we’ve had lately stems from club wars and biker bullshit.”
I grin big at him, just because I know it will piss him off. “And again, that’s my problem. Not yours.”
“You’re wrong. Dead wrong—especially if you’re drawing Georgia and her grandmother into it.”
The air seems to go still around me. My men may not know me well, but no man is going to stand for another guy warning him off his old lady. My voice drops dangerously low, “Are you foolish enough to think Georgia belongs to you, asshole?”
Davis doesn’t flinch. “Georgia’s her own person. She doesn’t belong to anyone. But the two of us are close.”
That word—close—hits like a punch to the gut.
I feel heat crawl up my spine, something primal inside of me is trying to claw its way out.
I take another step forward until Davis and I are toe-to-toe.
My eyes are cold and steady. “That closeness just ended. Georgia’s mine now.
I’ll watch out for her, not you.” I tilt my head toward the cruiser.
“Why don’t you do something useful—like your job?
Figure out who just tried to kill me in her driveway. ”
“If Georgia wants me out of her life, she’ll be the one to tell me—not you.”
“We’ll see,” I purr, refusing to let this asshole get to me.
“I’m thinking since I just had my hands on her tits, my tongue down her throat and I’m taking her out tonight, that message should be clear enough.
If it’s not, I’ll make sure my woman makes it clearer to you soon.
Maybe I’ll have her call you while she’s screaming out that she belongs to me while I have her pinned to the bed on my cock. ”
“You fucking—”
Before he can get his sentence out, I yell out to my men. “Mount up, boys. We’ve got work to do.”