Page 62 of Petty's Crime

Fuck Britney and what she’s done to me.

Vowing this will be the last time she’ll ever lay a hand on me, then scoffing at myself because I’ve said that before, I start the engine, tap into gear, let out the clutch and pray I get to the clubhouse safely.

Every bump shoots daggers of pain through me. Every lifesaver turn of my head makes my skull throb, and kicking up through the gears makes my knee remind me she must have kicked me there. The vibrations through my groin make me nauseous.

I ride through the gates relieved to have gotten here shiny side up, pull to a halt and on the second attempt, get my knee to work sufficiently so as to kick down the stand. The air seems to ring with blessed silence once I’ve turned the engine off.

I lean over my tank, breathing lightly but fast, and send up a thankful prayer that I’m here in one piece. I add a plea that I can pull this off and leave no one any the wiser as to what’s happened to me.

I swallow the pain as I dismount, then make sure I’m balanced evenly on both legs and that my back is straight as I walk toward the door, determined no one will have any reason for questions.

I’m a fucking man. I can’t let them know a woman did this to me.

Even pushing the heavy door pulls on my ribs, but I grit my teeth and wipe the grimace off my face. I enter, noticing the room is as full as when I left it, but what is different, is how all conversation stops as soon as I appear. It’s hard to read the expressions on all the faces, but none of them look particularly happy at my arrival.

My eyes find Roller, my partner in crime, my ride-or-die friend, but there’s sadness in his eyes, and he shakes his head, then turns his back.

What the fuck?

The crowd parts as Red strides through, coming to a halt right in front of me. His jaw is clenched, and too late, I notice his fist is too. I barely have time to notice it coming at my face before it connects with my nose, and hell, now I think he’s broken that too.So much for my unmarked face.

The blow knocks me off my feet. Coupled with all my other injuries, I’m in too much pain to stand, but then it’s probably safest to stay down. Unable to do much more than pull myself to my knees, I look up into the face of my prez, tears streaming from the knock to my nose.

I try to blink the blurriness away. “Wh-wh-what was th-th-that for?” Pain makes me stammer.

Red’s green eyes flare. “You’ve gone too fuckin’ far this time.”

What the hell is he talking about? Has that blow to my head made me forget something important?

“I-I don’t know what you mean.” My body was a mass of pain before, now it’s almost unbearable to breathe let alone speak.

“Whoa. Titch.”

As Twister’s voice thunders out, a kerfuffle draws my attention, letting me see both Crash and the enforcer with their arms locked around the older man.

“Let me at him. Fuckin’ abusive dick,” the big man roars and tries to get free.

What?

I’ve had two blows to the head in relatively quick succession. Who can blame me if I’m not thinking straight? But I can see that all my brothers are throwing murderous looks toward me and it’s not just Titch they’re having to hold back.

“What the hell’s going on, Prez?” I raise my eyes, hoping someone will enlighten me, or just shoot me and put me out of my misery. At the moment, I don’t know which I’d prefer.

Red bends down, puts his hand on the neck of my t-shirt and ignominiously drags me to my feet. I swallow down the exclamation of pain that his action causes me. When I’m on my feet, he lets me go so violently I stagger.

“You’re a fuckin’ piece of shit, Petty. Never did fuckin’ like you. But also never thought you’d stoop to this.” While I’m still bewildered, Red calls Hammer over and says in a disgusted tone, “Take him downstairs and get him out of my sight.”

Using what strength I have and ignoring the agony, I try to shrug Hammer off. In a voice that even I don’t recognise, I blurt out, “What, Prez? What the fuck am I supposed to have done?”

Red’s eyes widen. “You fuckin’ kidding me? You want to know what you did?” He eyes me, correctly reading my confusion. “Do you truly not think you’ve done anything wrong?” His voice thunders louder. “In your world, Petty, it might be alright to beat on your wife, but it certainly isn’t in mine.”

“Not mine,” Cobra echoes him, and spits in my direction.

“Nor fuckin’ mine,” Rope copies.

One by one, all the brothers show solidarity with the prez.

Pain forgotten in my bewilderment, my mouth gapes open. “Brit?” I ask cautiously. Then my stomach starts to churn as a memory comes back to me.“You’ve done it now.”My voice hardens. “What the fuck’s she been saying about me?” I glance around but she’s the one person I can’t see.

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