Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
Icer
I’m sitting at the bar with my phone in hand, waiting for my princess’ mother to text and let me know when I can bring over the newest toys I purchased for Elodie.
Zoey huffs and puffs whenever I do this, accusing me of going overboard and spoiling her rotten, but I can’t seem to help myself.
I want her to have everything I didn’t and it’s become an obsession.
As I sit here feeling antsy, I eavesdrop on a conversation that’s taking place between Riptide and Slayer.
“Dominik called me earlier this morning. He’s sending one of his strays to our town,” Rip states.
“We’re not supposed to make contact, he says it’s not needed, and according to him, we don’t have to watch over her or provide her with any sort of protection either.
He stated our presence alone will keep whomever is after her far away. ”
“Good to know, we have enough on our plate as it is,” Slayer returns.
I roll my eyes at his ridiculous statement because things have been boring as hell around here.
Exceptionally so. There’s been no excitement outside of club parties for too damn long, and seeing as I’m not a people person, for obvious reasons, those frat-like parties don’t do jack shit for my pent-up, unfiltered frustration.
I need to pound some flesh to get that under control and since we haven’t had any run-ins with anyone needing to be taught any lessons, I’m a strung up ball of rage with no outlet.
That’s not a good combination when it comes to me.
“Do you know something I don’t?” Riptide asks, leaning over the table and zeroing in on his vice president.
“There’s rumors floating around. Ones that are causing me real concern, Rip,” Slayer confesses.
“Like what?” Riptide inquires, causing me to drop my phone and lean in their direction.
Not because I’m a nosy fucker, but because it’s my job as the enforcer to know what the club is up against and those two tell me things on their own time which is usually too late for me to prevent anything from touching them.
The two men who are my top priority and who I’m in charge of keeping safe.
How do they expect me to do my job diligently if I’m not informed of potential threats before they have the chance to rear their ugly heads?
“The sheriff’s son, Jerome, is spearheading a gang alongside Patrick, the town council woman’s kid.
They’ve already been hitting up the community shopkeepers wanting ‘protection’ and ‘rent’ money since their businesses are on their streets while making bullshit threats about what will happen to them and their families if they don’t comply.
It’s a scare tactic, one that may work against us if we continue to let it happen since we promised to keep bullshit like this away from them,” Slayer announces.
“Then it’s time we start making some noise,” Riptide states.
Yes! I internally do a fist bump because it’s high time we had something for me to do outside babysit my brothers when they get their drink on.
Shade and I are cruising the streets. Step one in the plan to cause some noise is to make our presence known.
Remind those fucking twits that we’re still around and won’t be stepping aside while they take ownership of the streets.
As we pass the local hardware store, I notice the two punks in question come walking out.
I rev my engine and signal to Shade that I’m pulling over.
He grits his teeth back at me which is his version of a smile and nods his head.
We aren’t supposed to interact with the punk duo, which is disheartening, but orders are orders and technically, we won’t be doing anything wrong if we dog them as they walk along the sidewalk.
We park in a spot in front of Marlup Lumber and let our bikes idle for a minute while Jerome and Patrick continue their reign of terror on the townsfolk.
We observe. We take mental notes. But it isn’t too long after we watch scene after scene unfold that we intervene.
As Tatum McAllister comes charging out of her mother’s floral shop, Blossoming Daisie’s, practically walking on the heels of the assholes, her hands flailing through the air and her face tinged with red, cussing out the two, we step in.
Shade goes directly behind her, placing his hands on her hips as he drags her back into his chest, I quirk my eyebrow at him, he’s never been possessive over anything other than his bike and his stash of Mary Jane.
He narrows his eyes at me and I hold back the chuckle that wants to break free—now’s not the time for any sort of teasing, especially since he doesn’t do well with the spotlight on him no matter what type it is.
Instead, I cross my arms across my chest and plaster a scowl on my face. “Is there a problem here?”
“No problem,” Jerome quickly inserts.
“No problem! Seriously, Jerome. You came in here and threatened my mother, throwing her into a panic attack and nearly causing her heart to give out,” Tatum accuses, her voice raising an octave with each allegation she tosses out there.
“What the fuck is wrong with you! You were always a piece of shit in school, but this little game of gangster you’re playing is too damn much.
It’s time for you to grow the fuck up!” Jerome grows a set of balls and steps up toward her in a threatening manner which has Shade shuffling her behind him with a warning growl.
And everyone says I’m non-verbal. I guess he’s a lot like me in that aspect—I don’t say shit unless shit needs saying. I don’t like to waste my breath on idle bullshit.
“You talking shit about me, Tatum?” Jerome asks. As if it’s not obvious that that’s exactly what she’s doing.
She whips her head over Shade’s shoulder and continues her rant.
“I’m not talking shit, asshole. I’m giving you a reality check.
Your dad’s badge isn’t going to save you from everything!
One day, you’re going to take things too far and you’ll either be six-feet under or doing time in an eight-by-eight cell block. ”
Patrick, who’s been happily sitting on the sidelines, chuckles. “That’ll never happen. Our parents rule this town and by proxy, so do we.”
“Oh, look! Patrick decided to follow the leader. No surprise there, you two share a brain cell after all,” Tatum says, taunting them.
“Tatum. Shut the fuck up,” Shade tells her. “You’re making things worse.”
“You’re still a bitch, Tatum,” Jerome snarls.
“Careful, or you’ll be invited to one of our parties.
” I do not like that smug look on his face when he announces that.
Their parties, from what I’ve heard through the grapevine, aren’t by invitation.
They’re forced. If they want a woman there, she’s there whether it’s of her own volition or not.
Shade, having had enough, steps up and wraps his hand around Jerome’s throat. “Are you threatening her?”
I release a whistle. “Bold move. Especially since you did that in front of us,” I say, waving my pointer finger back and forth between me and Shade.
“We ain’t scared of you,” Patrick insists, stepping behind Jerome, lifting his shirt to show us the butt of a pistol that’s tucked into the band of his jeans.
“Watch out, you could shoot your dick off with that thing if you aren’t careful,” I counsel, my voice strong and steady. I have no fear running through my veins from his wannabe show of intimidation.
I’ve been threatened by men with bigger balls than this fuckwit and am still standing here loud and proud while my antagonizer became acquainted with an incinerator.
“Do you even have the safety on?” I inquire.
“He probably don’t give a shit,” Shade quips. “It’d make his gender switch easier. Yeah, Patrick, your pussy is showing. Only a man without a set would be sniffing another man’s ass like you are with Jerome.”
A laugh bubbles out of me when I notice how close Patrick has gotten to Jerome’s backside. They’re basically hip to hip. Time to take him down a peg or two. “Are you dry humping him? I thought only dogs proving their dominance do that shit. Are you the top dog in this race, Patrick?”
“What?” Patrick asks, stumbling back. “You’re delusional. I was having my brother’s back.”
“Literally,” Tatum giggles.
“Shut up,” Jerome wheezes, sounding out of breath from the amount of strength Shade is using to crush his trachea.
“Let him go, Shade,” I suggest. “This is your only warning. If we continue to hear about you going around and threatening the good folks of Canton again, we’re coming for you.”
Shade gives him one final squeeze before shoving him backward, issuing some last minute advice, “Scamper away and go lick your wounds.”
Once Jerome and Patrick are far enough away from us, Jerome points at us and says, “You’re going to pay for this.”
I take a menacing step forward which has them backpedaling and running off like the whimpering vermin they are. Good goddamn riddance. The thing about bullies is that once someone stands up to them, they lose their steam and become a laughingstock.
Shade turns around and narrows his eyes at Tatum. Not wanting to stick around for that shitshow, I make my way back to our bikes and sit on the saddle, minding my own fucking business when a shadow out of the corner of my eye catches my attention and I turn my body in that direction.
My jaw drops and my heart rate picks up the pace and begins to gallop in my chest. Standing off to the side under the awning of the local newspaper is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever encountered.
Her skin is flawless, the color of caramel which has my mouth salivating since it’s one of my favorite candies.
Her hair is long, falling down her back in sheets of dark, layered strands.
Her lips are puffy and succulent, the need to see how they’d feel against my own luring me to her like a siren.
Her body is pear shaped, she’s all tits and ass.
In other words, she’s goddamn perfect and I have the itching need to go over and introduce myself.
But I hold myself back because women like her, perfect in every way, want things I can’t give them.
A home and a future full of love, laughter, hearts and flowers as well as other shit Cupid’s responsible for.
And that ain’t me.
I’m a hard man who’s not cuddly or lovable.
I’m unworthy, tainted, rabid, and I’ll never put my filth on another person.
So instead of following my instincts, I turn around and dismiss her.
One of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
I feel rather than see her walk away, and for a minute afterward, I swear my heart stops beating.