Page 34 of Friar
Then Tasha shifted slightly, and I caught a glimpse of her face as she shot a triumphant glance in my direction.Her eyes glittered with malicious satisfaction, her red lips curved in a smirk that said she’d already won.
Something snapped inside me.Not jealousy now, but anger.White-hot fury.She might have threatened me before, but now she was trying to steal the one person who had made me feel like I belonged.I wasn’t going to just sit back and let it happen.
I took a step forward, but before I could move farther, I saw Friar’s hand close around Tasha’s wrist, removing her fingers from his chest with deliberate, unmistakable firmness.
“Back off, Tasha,” he said, his voice carrying through the silent room like a whip crack.He stepped away from her, creating a gap between their bodies that might as well have been the Grand Canyon for how definitively it rejected her advance.
Tasha’s face froze, her smile faltering at the edges.“Don’t be like that,” she tried, reaching for him again.“We used to have so much fun together.”
Friar moved again, not subtle this time as he put more distance between them.“I said back off.”His tone had hardened, gone cold in a way I’d never heard before.“I’m with Cheri now.”
He looked past Tasha, his eyes finding mine across the room with laser focus.Without breaking that connection, he moved around Tasha as if she were nothing more than an inconvenient piece of furniture.
Someone at a nearby table snickered.Another person coughed to cover a laugh.The sound rippled through the room, small at first, then growing as more people registered what had just happened.Tasha stood frozen, her cheeks flushing dark with humiliation.
Friar reached me in a few long strides, then slid his arm around my waist in a gesture that couldn’t have been more possessive than if he’d branded his name on my forehead.
“You okay?”he asked quietly, his mouth close to my ear.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.The warmth of his arm around me, the solid strength of his body beside mine, steadied me like nothing else could have.
Tasha hadn’t moved from her spot, her expression shifting from shock to something darker, more dangerous.Her eyes burned into mine, hatred radiating from her in almost visible waves.The flush on her cheeks had spread down her neck, staining her chest an angry red that clashed with her revealing top.
“You’ll regret choosing that pregnant whore,” she hissed, her voice carrying despite its low volume.The venom in it sent a chill down my spine.“Both of you will.”
She spun on her heel and stalked toward the back of the clubhouse, her shoulders rigid with humiliation.The crowd parted for her, no one wanting to be caught in the crossfire of her rage.
Leigha let out a low whistle.“Well, that could have gone worse.”
“How?”I asked, my voice finally returning, though it sounded shaky even to my own ears.
“She could have thrown a drink at you.Or tried to claw your eyes out.”Leigha shrugged, taking a sip of her beer.“Tasha’s not known for her restraint when she gets rejected.”
“Great,” I muttered, looking in the direction Tasha had disappeared.“Something to look forward to.”
Friar’s arm tightened around me, pulling me closer to his side.“She won’t touch you.She knows better.”
I wanted to believe him.I really did.But the hatred in Tasha’s eyes, the raw fury and humiliation -- that wasn’t something that would fade overnight.Or maybe ever.
“Come on,” Friar said, guiding me away from the bar.“I got us a table.Let’s sit down, show everyone this is exactly where we want to be.”
I followed his lead, acutely aware of the eyes still on us, the conversations that had resumed but now undoubtedly centered on what had just happened.This was what we’d come for, after all -- to be seen together, to solidify my place as Friar’s old lady in the eyes of the club.
I just hadn’t expected it to involve such a public showdown.Or the poisonous promise in Tasha’s parting words.
Chapter Thirteen
Friar
The afternoon sun beat down on the clubhouse backyard, turning leather cuts into miniature ovens and beer bottles into necessary lifelines.I watched Cheri from across our picnic table, her blonde hair catching the light in a way that still made my chest tighten.It had been weeks since I’d claimed her, and for the first time, Cheri seemed to be relaxing around the club, her smile coming easier as she chatted with Leigha and Lyssa.The President’s wife had finally accepted her.Progress.Slow and hard-fought but progress all the same.
“You’re staring,” Cheri said, not looking up from her conversation but somehow knowing my eyes were on her.A small smile played at the corners of her mouth, the kind that was just for me.
“Can’t help it,” I replied, taking a pull from my beer.“You look good here.”
She did.The property cut I’d gotten her -- black leather withProperty of Friaremblazoned across the back in bold letters -- fit her perfectly.She wore it over a simple white tank top that showed the gentle curve of her growing belly.Sixteen weeks now, according to Dr.Cooper.Our last ultrasound had shown a healthy baby, strong heartbeat, all the right measurements.The paternity test results were hung up due to delays and we’d been informed it would possibly be a few weeks.I hadn’t lied when I said it didn’t matter to me, but I had a feeling Cheri needed to know who the biological father was.And it wasn’t an awful idea.It would help later when doctors asked about the kid’s family medical history.
Around us, the club’s annual barbecue was in full swing.Beast manned the massive grill, spatula in one hand, beer in the other, barking orders at Prospects who scurried to fulfill his demands.Hawk and Snake were setting up horseshoes in the far corner, already arguing about rules and stakes.
