“The fuck you just say?”
“You promised to protect me too. Next thing I know, you’re leaving me in your exhaust. Whatever, I’m over it.”
“We’ll talk; that’s not how it went down.”
Prez comes over with Ares and Exterminator. “Everything okay, son?”
“We’ll get it figured out. We need to have a meeting though to discuss the clubs.”
“You’re family; my door’s always open for you,” Prez answers, and we shake. I’m going to need his help with turning this club around, and he’s one hell of a President when it comes to running a semi-clean MC.
The bartender and Princess stand slowly, looking around to make sure it’s clear. My woman has a bar towel covering her naked chest, and being the overprotective fucker that I am; I want to gouge everyone’s eyes out. Shedding my shirt, I swiftly help her into it and place my cut back on.
She doesn’t look at me, but I can feel her physically move her body closer to mine.
Glancing around at everyone, I declare sternly, “This is my Ol’ Lady. None of you better have touched her or ever touch her in the future. If I find out otherwise, my boy Saint will gladly hold you down so I can chop your fucking head off.”
Blaze stares at the ground guiltily.
“Blaze?”
“I was keeping her quiet,” he replies honestly.
Glancing at Princess, I ask her loud and clear, so everyone can hear me and know exactly where I stand. “He’s my cousin, but I will kill him for putting his hands on my woman. You want him dead, Cinderella?”
She looks over at him, her backbone a little straighter with me beside her.
“I swear I will protect you with my life.” Blaze meets her gaze, pledging his loyalty.
She glances up to me. “No, as long as he doesn’t touch me, we’ll be okay.”
Smokey grumbles, “So bitches are choosing our fates now? You told her to get the fuck out earlier.”
“Yeah, I sure the fuck did. I didn’t know who the hell was here or if anyone had hurt her. I wanted her to get out so I’d know she was safe, with my brothers.” I nod to the Nomads standing closer to the door.
“As for being a fate-maker, best believe you decide your own. You touch my property; I take your fucking head. Don’t test me when it comes to her. You need to realize right here, that this is your President’s Ol’ Lady. You call her Princess or Cinderella. Anything else, derogatory or sweet, will get you fucked up.”
Prez speaks up, “We’ll be gettin’ outta the way now that you have it under control and I know they’re safe.”
“Appreciate it,” I nod, genuinely. I’m humbled by the support and respect he’s shown me, knowing that I’m his daughter’s Ol’ Man.
He steps over to the bartender, and I feel Princess’ body grow stiff, the anger still radiating off of her as I try to eavesdrop.
My father glances overat the bartender. “Thanks for the heads-up, Nancy.”
She smiles through her discomfort, peering up at him with respect, “Anytime, Prez.” She has a towel wrapped around her arm where the bullet grazed her. She’s lucky she fell to the floor crying when she was hit; it probably saved her life and also gave her the chance to call my dad.
A gasp escapes me as the knowledge comes to light that she knew who I am and called my dad to tell him I was here. He turns toward me, his eyes soft as he takes me in and begins to speak, but I cut him off.
“How long has she known who I am? Was she calling you every time I was in here?” I fume, with the thought of being watched the entire time. She saw Viking claiming me for heaven’s sake. What I do is none of my father’s business; he gave up that right many years ago.
“Princess,” he starts and I interrupt what I know is about to be some sugarcoated bullshit answer. They always are.
“No. Tell me the truth, damn it. I have a right to know; it’s my life.”
“I mean, what do you think? You’re right down the road from the club, sugar. You’re my daughter, and I’m the President of the Oath Keepers. Every bar in the county has had a picture of you and known who you are since you were seventeen years old.”
“So…What? You’ve had people there to spy on me? And what would you have done if I messed up anyhow? You’ve always been too busy to be a father, so why even care to let them know? Does my privacy mean absolutely nothing to you?”