Page 9 of Xander
Because I was nothing but dirt, too?
Those were the only thoughts that circled around in my mind for the next few hours.
Until the front doors to the clubhouse banged open.
Grimm came storming in.
His face was an unreadable mask.
Like it always was.
But what I noticed that was different... was the blood that covered him.
The vein that pulsed along the column of his throat.
Fuck me.
“Fucking Christ, get a hold on him,” Grey growled.
I looked over at him and lifted my brows, same as the rest of my brothers.
Was he fucking serious?
Fucking get a hold of Grimm? He has met the man... right?
“Uh, VP? Last time you told us to hold him down, five of us ended up at the hospital, two of us were shot, and nine of us were stabbed.” Khal said.
Grey opened his mouth, but it was Nuke, our president, who lifted a brow and asked, “And. Your fucking point?”
Khal scoffed, “That is my fucking point.”
“Last time I checked, this fucking club isn’t made of a bunch of fucking pussies. Or was I fucking wrong?” Nuke asked,
I sighed, then sent up a prayer to the man above that we wouldn’t lose a brother after all of this was done.
I moved to his left, Kettle to his right, and then we both nodded.
Grimm was six-foot-five, three hundred and twenty pounds of pure muscle. He was a beast.
I was six-foot-four, two hundred and eighty-five pounds of pure muscle.
Kettle was six-foot-three, two hundred and ninety pounds of pure muscle.
Together, we should be able to lock him down.
Should being the keyword here.
We both tagged out of his arms and held on as tight as we could.
He thrashed between the two of us.
I felt like shit for touching him, something he totally didn’t fucking like.
Doc moved in then and inserted a sedative into his shoulder.
One, two, three, Grimm dropped like a stone.
My arms locked in place; my back groaned with the effort of holding him up, my thighs shook, but I stood firm.
