Page 124 of Enemy
Grizzly spits to the ground. “This is what we do to traitors. Bracer worked with you, trying to undermine me, and here he is. Did you suck his dick too? We didn’t bring that part of him, I’m afraid.”
Clyde shakes his head. “You got your traitor, so fuck off.”
“Did we?” calls out someone from the other side. The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but most of the Butchers are the same to me, not worthy of memorizing details. Now Clyde on the other hand... he was a standout from the first time I laid eyes on him, and while we’re in mortal danger, hiding in front of our own clubhouse, I still find a split second to appreciate the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down his throat in profile. I swear he looks fuckingregal.
“He did not betray you,” I shout back, because while every muscle in my body itches to power me all the way to Grizz, so I can slit his throat, we are at a disadvantage. “Told me nothing but what he likes in bed. Nothing here for you!”
A flush of color appears on Clyde’s neck and he spreads his arms with a smile I know is fake, because I’ve seen his real grin. “There you have it. Hate it all you want. I don’t give a shit. But I didn’t sell out any of you, even if I no longer wear the Butcher patches!”
“He shot Puck!” someone yells, and I recoil on the inside, because this is the crux they won’t let go of. And Clyde did that for me. He revealed himself as being on my side over his biker brother. That’s enough for the Butchers gathered to demand retribution.
“I won’t be talking about this to you, coward!” Grizzly says to Clyde and kicks the wire fence gate so hard it rattles. “Prophet! Give him up! Hand him over, and we’ll leave.”
Every tendon in my body turns to ice when I hear the absolute silence following that statement. My hand tightens on Clyde’s arm so hard he flinches, capturing my gaze with those incredible eyes. I try not to be too obvious about the way I monitor the behavior of my club, because I get it. While he’s under our protection, the guy was an enemy until very recently. Many of the Vultures have a personal grudge against him, most notably for that damn bomb he planted. Still, I call him mine, and if they betray him, it’s just as if they were betraying me. Creep lets out a sharp hiss, coiling his body, as if he’s struggling to restrain the aggression inside. Past him, Yeti and Rooster are eying us, their mouths open as if they were about to put forward an idea I wouldn’t like.
So I growl. It’s pure, primal, and communicates without words how I feel about evendiscussingthis option.
They would kill Clyde, though most likely torture him first. Cut his hair, pluck out his pretty blue eyes, break his teeth, and burn the club tattoo off his back.
I won’t let that happen. I won’t.
Prophet gets up, and I swear, if he betrays me right now, I’m done no matter what Vulture Hollow has given me in the past.
“We do not give up our people, and Clyde Turner belongs to the Vultures now,” he says sternly, watching his opponent beyond the fence. He’s like the warrior king I need right now, and I could kiss his damn signet for this declaration.
“Damn right,” I shout, rising to my feet too, because if my prez is ready to stand with me, I will do the same for him. My flesh feels stiff, anticipating a quick bullet to ripthrough me. When it doesn’t happen as I face the Butchers gathered on the other side of the fence, my brothers stand too, ready to defend all that’s dear to me.
“He’sourpeople now,” Martin states, and the iciness melts from me despite the ongoing danger. This will be bloody, but I’m more than ready to risk my own life—and even that of others—if it means Clyde has a chance.
Grizzly raises his hand and urges someone forward with a gesture. “You sure about that? How about a swap then?”
My heart stops. A Butcher comes to Grizzly’s side with a woman in a black dress, and in the stark white lights, he reveals to us that he has Brigid.
This time, it’s Prophet whose arm I have to grab when he attempts to bolt over the cement wall. I need Harvey’s help from the other side to hold him back.
“You fucker! You shit-eating maggot! How dare you bring her into this?” Prophet yells with the fury of a thousand vengeful gods.
Grizzly laughs. “All’s fair in love and war.”
I can’t fucking breathe. Brigid is like a mother to Prophet. For many of us Vultures, she’s as close to a mother figure we ever had. Vulture Hollow isherland, and she gave it to us as our home. She might not wear our patches or vote, but she is the heart of our MC, and we can’t give her up. Even I can’t make that decision now, because Clyde is like air and water to me, but I also cannot doom the club for him. Those guys are my family. Brigid is my family. But so is Clyde, and it’s ripping me apart, as if the Butchers tied a rope to each of my limbs, attached them to their bikes and are now pulling.
There’s only one way to make it stop.
“I’ll go. You can have me!” I say, cutting through the jeers on the other side of the fence.
Chapter 47
Clyde
Mybrainisslowat processing what I’ve just heard, still stuck on the Butchers taking Brigid hostage. But when it hits me, it’s like driving my bike into a brick wall.
I grab Road’s wrist and force him to meet my eyes. “No! No fucking way.”
I flinch when the scarring on his face—my fault—tightens, and the distorted switchblade tattooed around his eye shuts partially. He leans toward me, hissing out each word so intensely I can even feel their heat on my lips.
“There’s no chance I’ll let them take you or Brigid either. They hate you more, so it should be me.”
My breath shallows as I stare at him, unable to blink. All I know is that I’m not letting him go, because if I do, I’ll never see him again, unless as a corpse, and I’m not allowing that to happen.
