Page 40 of Rough Choice

“It’s not like that,” Grier said, cutting off their train of thought as though they’d spoken it out loud. “I was asked to keep her out of troubles… from time to time.”

“That’s not all!”

“Yes, it is!”

“Well, don’t you blow hot and cold!” she said, clearly enjoying her ability to get under Grier’s skin. Indeed, Eliana had never seen him so rattled. He looked torn between punching her and running from the room. If for no other reason than this, Eliana couldn’t help but like the short red-haired woman.

“What is it that you want, exactly?” Grier asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You and Kye Driscoll have gone and Max’s two other commanders are dead, he’s passed the mantle of MC president on to me,” Fiona said in a powerful declaration, and three sets of eyebrows went up.

“What about Hamilton?” Kye asked.

“You think my dad can trust anyone after what you did?” She was shaking her head as though remembering something very painful. “So, the club is left to me. Seeing as the lot of you betrayed my father and the Screaming Demons, I’m here to collect the debt you owe.”

“I thought you weren’t going to kill us!” Eliana said, very confusedly.

“Oh, I’m not,” Fiona said quickly. “I just want Grier to take me to bed.”

All four of them fell silent as her statement blew through them harder than the hurricane level winds outside, then three of them all looked at Fiona and cried a booming, “What!”

“You came all this way to have sex with Grier?”

“I’m not taking you to bed!”

“I’m so confused.”

They were all talking over one another but were silenced when Fiona started laughing loudly. “I’m not looking to fuck him because he’s just so damn cute,” she cooed and pinched Grier’s cheek. He quickly swatted her hand away. “My claim on the club is weak because I’m a woman. To hell with modern feminism, an MC club is the embodiment of a patriarchal dictatorship. What I need to solidify my stake is a son. Grier is going to give me one.” The way she said it, so precisely and easily, you’d think she was reciting some written rule in a handbook.

“I… I don’t know what to say to that,” Eliana stammered as she looked between Kye and Grier. “Is that an actual thing clubs do?”

“No!” Grier snapped, but Kye looked less convinced.

“Actually,” he said, running his fingers through his wet hair, “if a new MC President is owed a debt inherited by the former president, especially a blood bond, the new president has the discretion to call in the debt under any circumstance.”

“A life for a life, I think it’s fair,” Fiona reasoned. “You killed Max, I get a baby.”

“You said Max isn’t dead,” Grier argued.

“Not yet, but soon, very…” she explained.

“Then we didn’t kill Max at all,” Grier snapped.

“He is as good as dead since Kye stabbed him!”

“You said it was cancer!”

“Which only made him weaker because he got stabbed in the bloody eye! Aren’t you lot supposed to be clever?”

“I’m not fucking you!”

“Yes, you are, pretty boy, now drop trou and get it up!”

“You’re a fucking lunatic!”

“Just imagine how batshit crazy I’ll be with pregnancy hormones!”

As the two exchanged heated jabs, Kye and Eliana slowly backed out of the room. Clearly, this discussion needed to be left between the two of them. Besides that, they were both still dripping wet in their soaked clothes, and as Fiona was now unarmed and being dealt with by Grier, they were ready to excuse themselves to bed.