She dipped her chin. “I got a letter today, too.” Walking closer, Connie took my arm. “Come into the house, we’ll talk.”
My heart sank, full of heaviness, and I gently shook her off. “No. I’ll go home.”
“Let her leave, Queenie,” Bandit ordered. “She’s a fucking nutjob.”
“Shut your mouth,” Connie snarled, cutting him off before her gaze fell on me and softened again. “I didn’t know either, Elise. He kept it from me, too.”
Bandit sniffed loudly. “It’s nobody’s business but John’s—”
“I said, shut your mouth,” Connie bit out again, harder.
“What’s a Rifleman?” I asked, throat heating. “He wrote all these things, but I don’t understand what he’s talking about or what any of it means.”
“It’s an Infantry role,” Connie explained gently. “John will focus on weaponry. It’s quite a wide term and encompasses a few roles and duties, but ultimately, John will take responsibility for the discharge of weapons.”
I rubbed at the ache shooting through my chest. “Will he be on the frontline if we go to war?”
“Probably,” she admitted. “But the troubles in the Middle East don’t affect us, and anyway, even as a mechanic, it wouldbe likely he’d go to war. The Marines need auto mechanics on deployment as much as any other unit.”
I took Connie’s hands in mine. “You know whatever he does, he’ll make sure he’s the best at it, right?”
She smiled sadly. “Yes.”
I squeezed her fingers. “John will take risks and put himself in danger before he lets anyone else do it.”
“I’m aware,” Connie said dryly, shooting Bandit a glare. “But I will say, it’s not all Don’s fault. If John didn’t wanna do it, he wouldn’t, the same as if he did want to do it, nothing would stop him.”
I blinked owlishly. “But Bandit could’ve warned him. He certainly didn’t have to encourage him. John constantly thinks he has to prove himself because of this club, when, in fact, he’s the most honorable and loyal person I know. He doesn’t need to prove anything to anybody.”
Bandit made a noise in the back of his throat. “Shows how much you know, girlie.”
“What do you mean by that?” I demanded.
Bandit’s lip curled. “I won’t tell you again. Watch your fuckin’ tone.”
“Don,” Connie snapped. “She’s upset. John’s blindsided us here. Give the girl some grace.”
“Don’t give a fuck,” Bandit retorted. “Nobody walks in here and disrespects me on my own turf. She’s lucky I didn’t fuckin’ shoot her.”
“Don!” she roared, leaning up and getting in his face. “Shut up!”
Silence fell over the compound.
Nobody would dare go against Connie. In some ways, the men were more likely to listen to her than Bandit. She was the mother figure to many of the brothers, and they thought the world of her.
She whirled around to face our audience and pointed toward the barn. “Get in the clubhouse and carry on with your shindig.”
As they went to walk away, Connie called out, “Boys!”
They halted.
“If I ever see or hear any of you threaten Elise again, either physically or verbally, you’re out. Whatever you think of her, she’s an ol’ lady of this club, and tonight’s been fueled by her worry for my son, who one day will be your brother. I’ve lost count of all the times some of you have lost your shit when you’ve been pissed or worried. I’m not happy you stood by and allowed Seth to put a gun to her head, and I won’t forget it any time soon.”
Stares hit boots, and feet shuffled as the men let Connie’s words hang in the air. Within a minute, the lot cleared, and all the brothers—except Bandit and Abe—disappeared into the barn.
Connie heaved a frustrated sigh. “Come inside and cool down, sweetheart. Iris will make a pot of coffee, and we’ll talk about it.”
Glancing at Bandit, I shook my head. “I think it’s better I go home.”