Page 21 of Slaughter
“A problem I can easily fix,” Zeke muttered darkly, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
“Why are you so mad?” I demanded, my voice rising with each word, frustration and confusion bleeding through every syllable. “Is it because it’s Angel? A brother in the Diamondbacks?Youare part of that club. So is Nevil. You ride with these men every single day. You trust them with your life out on the road.”
“And that’s the problem!” Zeke shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration, his face flushed red with anger. “I don’t want my sisters—anyof my sisters—around my club brothers. They aren’t for the likes of you. They’re rough, they’re dangerous, and they live a life you shouldn’t be anywhere near.”
Faith piped up from behind me, her voice sharp and cutting through the tension like a knife, “Is this you talking, Ezekiel, or Dad? Because you’re starting to sound an awful lot like him right now.”
Zeke’s glare swung to her, his jaw clenched tight. “It’s me. This is all me.”
“I don’t know, Faith,” Charity huffed, crossing her arms over her chest defensively and shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “He sounded a lot like Balthazar there for a minute. All that righteous anger and protective nonsense. Did big brother tell you to act like this? Put you up to playing the heavy-handed guardian? Because you’ve never cared before. You’ve never once had a problem with whom we dated or where we went.”
“Well, I carenow!” Zeke roared, his voice echoing off the walls and making us all flinch.
“I’m gonna date whoever I want,” Joy said plainly from her spot on the couch, not even looking up from her phone. Her thumbs kept scrolling through what looked like text messages, completely unbothered by the rising tension in the room. “In fact, I already have a date for the Spring Dance at the high school. His name is Mitchell. He’s on the basketball team, and he’s picking me up at seven next Saturday.”
Zeke’s head whipped around so fast I thought he might give himself whiplash. His face turned three shades redder than I had ever seen it. “The hell you are! You’re only seventeen! You’re too young to date!” He crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet like he was preparing for battle. “No sister of mine is going out with some basketball player who probably can’t even spell his own name!”
“And besides,” Faith added, stepping forward with a smug little smile playing at the corners of her mouth, clearly enjoying the chaos unfolding before her, “you aren’t old enough to tell me what to do. I’m five months older than you. Therefore,youhave to listen tome.” She tapped her finger against Zeke’s chest for emphasis. “If I want to date, I will. That’s just how it works.”
“You’d have to leave the greenhouse first, Faith.” Charity chuckled from her spot by the window, barely suppressing a full-blown laugh. She had a point. Faith spent practically every waking moment tending to her plants and herbs.
“It could happen!” Faith scoffed, though her cheeks flushed pink and she suddenly found the floor very interesting to look at. “I could... I could meet someone who appreciates botany. Someone cultured and intelligent who understands the importance of sustainable agriculture.”
Joan stood up from the rocking chair, shaking her head with barely concealed amusement. A knowing smile played at the corners of her mouth as she watched the standoff unfold before her. “Face it, Shadow. You have four beautiful sisters. You areoutvoted, outmanned, and outgunned. Because as much as I love you, I’m siding with them on this. Your job is to be their support. The muscle in case shit goes bad—not that it will, but if it does,that’swhere you step in. In the meantime, for your sanity and for everyone else’s peace of mind, I would advise you to lick your wounds and walk away. Live to fight another battle on another day.”
The rumble of a motorcycle engine cut through the tension like a knife, growing louder and more insistent as it approached the house. The deep, throaty growl of the engine sent vibrations through the floorboards beneath my feet.
My heart jumped into my throat. This was it. No turning back now.
I quickly crossed the room and kissed Zeke on the cheek, ignoring his scowl and the way his jaw clenched beneath my lips. “I won’t be late. I promise.”
Before he could say another word, before he could launch into another protective tirade or try to physically block the door with that imposing frame of his, I dashed out of the house, letting the screen door slam shut behind me with a satisfying bang.
Angel was already dismounting from his bike as I hurried down the porch steps, his leather cut catching the golden light of the late afternoon sun. He looked good—clean, put-together, genuinely happy to see me. His blond hair was slicked back, and the effort he’d clearly made with his appearance had me feeling a little guilty for the way my stomach wasn’t doing backflips.
“Hey,” he greeted, his smile warm as he handed me a helmet. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” I said, taking the helmet and turning it over in my hands. “Let’s go.”
He helped me settle onto the bike behind him, his hand steady on my waist. Once he was situated, I wrapped my armsaround his middle. The leather of his cut was warm beneath my palms, and I could smell the faint scent of cologne and motor oil. A distinctly MC smell that I had grown up around when my dad was still alive and now with my brothers, Balthazar and Ezekiel.
Angel had just turned his bike around when his phone buzzed. He stopped the bike, fished his phone out of his pocket one-handed, and glanced at the screen. His entire body went rigid.
“Shit,” he muttered, reading whatever message had just come through. He sat there for a moment, the bike idling beneath him, his jaw working as he processed whatever news he had just received.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, leaning forward slightly.
“Prez just texted,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “There’s a club barbecue tonight. All hands on deck. I’m required to be there.”
Before I could say anything, the front door burst open, and Zeke appeared on the porch, grinning from ear to ear like he had just won the lottery. His massive frame was silhouetted against the light spilling from inside the house, and he looked absolutely triumphant.
“AND DON’T FORGET THE ICE!” he bellowed, his voice carrying across the entire field.
Chapter Nine
Slaughter
I woke to birdsong and the smell of jasmine.
