Page 57 of Fury
"Actually," Rose says, sliding into the conversation with a predatory smile, "most of our men are quite skilled in other areas. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Kaitlyn? Isn't your man the one who got caught with his secretary at the Christmas party?"
Kaitlyn's face pales, but Bethany isn't backing down. "At least we have real relationships, not just being property of some gang. Nice patches, by the way. Do they brand you like cattle, or is it more of a verbal agreement that you belong to them?"
I feel something snap inside me, not anger, but a fierce pride that's been building since I came home. "You know what, Bethany? You haven't changed a bit since high school. Still so desperate to feel superior that you'll attack what you don't understand."
I step closer, keeping my voice level. "These women aren't property. They're family. They're strong, loyal, and brave in ways you couldn't begin to comprehend. And our men? They'd walk through fire for us—not because we belong to them, but because we choose each other, every single day."
Bethany's eyes narrow. "Is that what you tell yourself while you're spreading your legs for the club president? That it's a choice?"
"That's enough," Tiana snarls, moving forward, but I put a hand on her arm.
"It's okay," I say calmly. "Bethany's just jealous because the only men who want her are the ones who have to pay her tab first."
Someone in our group lets out a low whistle as Bethany's face contorts with rage. "You little?—"
"Careful," Meadow interrupts, her smile diamond hard. "Think about who you're talking to. And who her family is. And who we all are." She gestures around our circle. "This isn't high school anymore, Bethany. You don't have teachers to hide behind when you start something you can't finish."
The threat isn't explicit, but it hangs in the air between us, clear as a bell. For a moment, I see genuine fear flicker across Bethany's face as she finally realizes she's not just confronting the shy girl she used to bully, but a woman surrounded by a sisterhood forged in something stronger than her petty meanness.
"Whatever," she finally says, backing away. "Enjoy your little white trash reunion. Come on, girls."
As they retreat toward the other side of the bar, our circle closes ranks, everyone checking on each other.
"You okay?" Meadow asks me, concern evident in her eyes.
I'm surprised to find I'm smiling. "Better than okay. That felt… good, actually."
"Damn right it did," Tiana laughs, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "You handled that like a true ole lady. Greyson would be proud."
The others chime in with agreement, and soon we're back on the dance floor, the confrontation only strengthening the bonds between us. As we dance, I catch glimpses of Bethany and her friends watching us from the bar, their expressions a mix of confusion and something that might be envy.
They don't understand this life—the loyalty, the family, the absolute certainty that you're never alone. They never will. And for the first time, I don't want them to. This belongs to us, to the women who choose this path and the men who walk it with them.
As Meadow and I share a smile, I notice movement at the edge of the dance floor. Through the crowd, I catch glimpses of leather cuts weaving between bodies, not approaching directly but definitely keeping us in sight.
"Don't look now," I murmur to Meadow, "but I think we have company."
She follows my gaze and snorts. "Of course we do. Did you really think they'd let us out completely unsupervised?"
I squint in the dim light and recognize Zach, Tiana's brother, leaning against a pillar near the exit. He's trying to look casual, but his eyes constantly scan our group.
"Subtle," I say with a laugh. "Real subtle."
Tiana spots him, too, and rolls her eyes dramatically. "My brother thinks he's James Bond or something. He's been trailing us since dinner."
The party continues despite our shadows, aka security detail, and I find myself relaxing at the knowledge that we're being watched over, even from a distance. It's just part of this life, the protection that comes with the family.
As the night winds down, women start arranging rides home for those who don't want to wait for the party bus. Samantha checks her phone, and announces, "My brother's outside. He just got off his shift at the hospital and offered to drive me home."
"Xavier's here?" Cassandra perks up. "I haven't seen him in forever!"
We gather our things and follow Samantha toward the exit. Xavier is waiting by the curb, still in scrubs under his jacket, looking exhausted but smiling when he spots his sister. He's handsome in a clean-cut way that contrasts sharply with the MC men I've grown accustomed to—no tattoos, no leather, just kind eyes and a warm smile.
"Ladies," he greets us with a little bow that makes Samantha roll her eyes affectionately.
"Thanks for coming, X," she says, giving him a quick hug. "I know you just finished a twelve-hour shift."
"Anything for my favorite sister," he replies with a wink.
