Page 107 of Animal's Reformation
“His ma’s sick,” Thea said.
The Insurgents glowered at her, and she placed a hand over her mouth. Hawk turned away and looked at Animal. “Tell Skinless to get his ass over here with the SUV. We got an asshole he needs to pick up.”
Animal pulled out his phone, stepped away from the group, and tapped in the prospect’s number. He told him what Hawk wanted, then Animal ended the call and sent out a group text telling the membership that Skeet’s beatdown was imminent and to get their asses to the clubhouse pronto. Animal glanced over at the badge and chuckled: he was red-faced, his eyes narrowed into slits, his lips pressed into a thin line. Animal slid his phone into the inner pocket of his jacket and ambled over to the group.
“Skinless is on the way, and I sent the brothers a text.”
Hawk nodded as he, Throttle, and Bones crowded Skeet against the wall. Thea leaned her head against it and watched them, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“You,” the badge said, pointing at Animal. “Come here.”
Animal lifted his chin up. “Fuck, no.”
The man in uniform slammed the car door and strode over to him.
“Did Landon set you straight, big boy?” Animal said, and Throttle, Hawk, and Bones guffawed.
“Just fuckin’ remember what you were told,” Throttle said.
“I’m watching you. If you assholes cross the line by even one inch, I’ll be all over your asses,” he said.
“And we’ll be watchingyou,” Animal replied.
“Like Hawk said, ‘Move on.’ We got shit to do.” Throttle turned his back.
The badge glared at Animal. “Leave Olivia alone,” he gritted.
Taken aback by the mention of his woman’s name, Animal just stood there, his mind reeling. The cop sneered at him.
“What the fuck’s your name?” Animal growled.
“Nathan Rogers.” A satisfied smirk spread across his face.
“There’s no way my woman’s into fuckin’ badges.”
“Yourwoman?” A dry laugh. “She’smygirlfriend. From the dumb look on your face, I’m guessing you didn’t know you were just biker cock.”
White-hot rage burned through him, and Animal clenched his hands and stepped closer to the fucking badge. He raised his arm, but before he could throw a punch at the smug fucker’s face, Hawk grabbed his wrist and stopped him.
“If you do that, it’ll cause all sorts of fuckin’ problems, bro. Just let it be. The fucker’s just talking out of his ass to goad you.”
Jerking away from Hawk’s hold, Animal breathed heavily through flaring nostrils as he stared at Rogers. Of course Hawk was right: if he hit Rogers, Landon wouldn’t look the other way. The smug badge was just dying for an excuse to haul Animal’s ass in, but how in the hell didheknow Olivia? There was no damn way she was two-timing him by going out with this idiot. Was she? Doubt mixed with fury coursed through Animal.
“Let’s take care of business,” Hawk said, gripping Animal’s arm and leading him toward Skeet.
Animal looked over his shoulder and saw Rogers march back to the patrol car, slam the door, and speed away. He still couldn’t figure out how in the hell the jerk knew Olivia, or better yet, about Olivia and him.
Skinless pulled up in the SUV and he and Rusty jumped out and promptly handcuffed Skeet, then dragged his sorry ass back to the vehicle and took off. Thea—tears streaming down her face—stood on the curb watching … well after the car had disappeared.
Hawk and Throttle jumped on their bikes and switched on the ignition.
“See you at the clubhouse,” Throttle said as he peeled away from the curb with Hawk following behind.
“You shoulda shed some tears for your old man, not for a fuckin’ traitor, but then again, you’re a whoring cheat,” Bones said to Thea.
She spun around. Black trails of mascara stained her cheeks, and she dabbed them with the corner of her sleeve. “Are you gonna kill him?” She sniffled.
Without answering, Animal and Bones stalked away toward their motorcycles, and then headed to the Insurgents’ clubhouse.
