Page 24 of Iron
An incessant string of absurd cartoon faces and an eggplant filled up my screen when I opened the message.
I didn’t understand a thing, but I knew she’d received my message and that she would make sure everything was taken care of.
I held the gas peddle down the entire way over to the club’s compound. I’d been here once and I hadn’t been in my right mind then. I’d just lost Esme and I was angry for so many reasons. The fact that I’d been emotional even irritated me. A death for a death was what I’d demanded from the club president, but he wouldn’t give me that. But he let me take my pound of Keften’s flesh once they had found him. When it was all over, I didn’t feel justified, but knowing the man was going to die soon after I left helped me to sleep at night.
It didn’t bring Esme back.
But it made it easy to close my eyes knowing that man couldn’t hurt another soul.
All eyes were on me as I walked into the front door of the building. I had no clue where to find Iron. I didn’t even have a clue why I was here.
I couldn’t seem to let this go.
He’d made me angry.
And when someone made me angry, I got even. I hurt them back. I proved to them— and myself— that you couldn’t get me down. You couldn’t damage me. I would not cower.
I realized that I wasn’t simply angry. I was many things. There were tiny sparks of emotion coming from all directions that I wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge and deal with. I couldn’t. It was who I was and I wasn’t going to apologize for it.
The music was loud and there were people everywhere. I was pretty sure I recognized a few of them from the one time I’d been here but I had no clue on what their names were. Nor did I care to know.
“Where is your President?” I asked in a stern voice. My eyes stared down the biker closest to me. I didn’t know him and it was unclear if he realized who I was or not.
He looked at me with a smirk on his face and said nothing.
“Holy fuck, you are a fine piece. We don’t get bitches like you in here.”
My eyes cut over to the man that had said that, but other than that, I showed no reaction to his words. They didn’t bother me but he was wasting my time.
Man was the wrong word to use for him, that much was clear. Boy was more appropriate. Young and carefree. A little smug, too. One of those that thought he could get any woman into bed with a flash of his tattooed body and a few dirty words.
Hm.
Maybe it worked around here but it certainly didn’t do a thing for me.
“Hey, baby. I like a woman that’s mature. How would you like to take a ride on my face?” He didn’t seem to know when to stop. “You’re fine as fuck, woman.”
“Sketch,” someone called out from behind him with a clear ring of warning in their tone.
He didn’t take the hint, choosing instead to take a step closer to me until his hot breath fanned across my shoulder.
“You one of those hard badass bitches, huh?” If that was supposed to be a question I hoped he wasn’t expecting an answer. I wasn’t going to waste my breath on this one. “That’s cool. I can be down. I’ll let you tie me up and spank me until I scream.”
“I don’t like repeating myself,” I said as my eyes slid back over to the man that I’d asked my question to.
“C’mon, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
My gaze slid back to look at the boy that was obviously as dumb as a bag of concrete.
“Shit. Sketch, fuckin’ knock it off.”
I didn’t know who said it but it didn’t matter.
In the blink of an eye, I gripped his bright blonde hair at the back of his head and smashed his face down on the edge of the bar. I suppose it might have been a little much to make my point, but I was a little on edge and he was beginning to annoy me.
“The fuck!” he roared as he straightened up. Blood dripped from his nose down onto this leather vest, covering some of the patches in its dark stickiness.
Most of the men jumped to attention, their backs going straight as their hands went to their hips. A few of them even went as far as to reach around to their lower backs. I expected guns and knives to be pulled but I didn’t flinch.
