Shaylin
I woke up late for work, and that means the shop didn’t open until an hour past the time it was supposed to. I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, slipped on some clothes, and ran out the door with Butcher hot on my heels.
Last night was just crazy, and I can’t believe everything that happened. I blushed all morning thinking about what went down—and Butcher went down. Ha, get it? Don’t get me wrong—I have come before, but it’s a lot different when someone else is doing it to you.
Butcher parks his bike and walks across the street to get breakfast.
Luckily, I had everything prepped last night or I would be really hurting. I need to hire on some full-time staff. The past year the bakery has grown beyond what I could imagine.
The buzzer in the kitchen goes off, letting me know my batches of cupcakes are finished. I walk into the kitchen and open my many ovens. I grab my rolling table and the oven mitts hanging on the wall.
After putting the mitts on, I reach inside the oven. In each hand I take a tray of cupcakes out, and I set them on the table.
I hear the bell above my door ding, and I turn off the oven. I will come back for the rest. When I get halfway across the kitchen, I hear a loud crash. I freeze and my heart stops, expecting the worst.
I look up at the security monitor, and I see three men. They have bandanas over their faces and guns. One of the men is behind the counter. I hear the loud crash again, and I see him banging on the register.
Fuck fuck fuck. Butcher is across the street, and I don’t have his number. Taking out my phone, I step back from the doorway, my heart pounding so hard I feel like they can hear it. I put the phone on silent and send a text to my father. He will know Butcher’s number.
ME: Dad, three people have broken into the bakery. I am in the back and they don’t know I am here. Butcher is across the street to get breakfast.
I hit send and stuff my phone back in my pocket. Then it hits me that I have a gun stored under this cabinet. I get on my hands and knees, reach under the cabinet, and grab the gun.
I check to see how much ammunition I have and see I have a full clip. I push the clip back in, cock the gun, and take off the safety. I am not taking chances. I stand back, put my back to the corner, and ready myself.
“Wait,” a voice says and I stiffen. “Someone has to be here, the store wouldn’t be open.”
Fuck me!
I bite my bottom lip, making sure I stay silent. There is literally nowhere to hide in my kitchen. I wanted a huge open floor plant. Big mistake, obviously. A figure moves in front of the entrance to the kitchen, and he walks inside. “Well, look what we have here!”
I have the gun hidden behind my back. “Take the money and go.” I don’t want this to end badly.
“We can’t leave a witness. Sorry, puss.” I see a marking on the side of his neck. He raises the gun. He is going to kill me.
“You don’t have to do this.” I try to keep my voice even and steady, not wanting to give in to my fear. The fear is gut wrenching. It’s three against one and they are armed. Why are they robbing a bakery in the middle of the day?
He steps forward and brings the bandana from his mouth. He sneers at me, and I notice the tattoo on the side of his neck. I know it’s related to some kind of gang or group. That’s not fucking good.
“We can set up an arrangement to get you out of it.” His eyes move up and down my body. Vomit moves up my throat. This is sickening and it pisses me off.
It’s like something comes over my body when I am pissed. Fear is gone out the window. “No arrangement.” I am getting madder every second. His eyes are lingering on my tits.
He laughs and his eyes move from my tits to my face. “Nah, I don’t need an arrangement. I am just going to take it, whether you want it or not.”
Fuck that shit.
I grin at him, showing teeth and all. “Big mistake.”
I bring my gun out from behind my back, point it at his crotch, and pull the trigger. He falls to the ground screaming. I run over and kick the gun out of his hand, and it skids across the floor. “Now you ain’t going to be doing shit.” I kick him in the face, knocking him out cold.
Adrenaline is pumping through me, and I hear someone running in my direction. I ready myself. A gunshot goes off and then another. A man falls into the kitchen. He lands head first, blood immediately pooling around him.
“SHAYLIN!” Butcher roars and I jump into action.
“I’m okay!” I yell. I hear thundering footsteps, and he charges into the room. He looks at the man I shot in the crotch, before running over and swooping me up in his arms.
“Don’t fucking do that shit again.”
I wrap my arms around him tighter, my body shaking with emotion. I hear someone moaning, and I feel Butcher stiffen before he lets me go. He shields me with his body. I peek around his side. The man I shot in the crotch is awake and moaning, holding himself.
“Why did you shoot him in the crotch?” Butcher says in an eerily cool and collected voice.
“He threatened to rape me.”
My body gets a jolt as I say the word “rape. ”It hits me what just came down: I could have been raped. This could have been a very bad situation. Lucky I had a gun and Butcher was here.
“Dead man, but not yet.” I can hear the smile in his voice. Butcher walks over to the cabinet, grabs a towel, and throws it to him. “It’s not your time yet.”
Chills run up my spine at the sound of his voice. This man isn’t going to die easy. I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket and, with a very shaky hand, I bring it out. I look at the screen and see it’s my father.
“He-hel-hello,” I choke out as the adrenaline is wearing off and everything is starting to sink in.
“Shay, are you okay? What happened?” Dad’s words rush out, and I hear a bunch of motorcycles in the background. I feel someone standing in front of me, and I look up. Butcher has his hand out to take the phone from me.
“Butcher here.” I hear my father in the background, speaking a mile a minute. I rush into Butcher’s arms. I just need to feel safe right now. I am a tough girl and I don’t take shit from anyone, but this has rocked me to my core. I never expected this to happen.
I hear a bunch of motorcycles pull up outside, and Butcher ends the phone call with my dad and stuffs it in my back pocket. Butcher holds me tightly to him, my face buried in his chest.
“You are never leaving my sight again.” He squeezes me tighter to him.
“I don’t want to,” I admit and fist the back of his cut. Even after this happened, I feel safe right now. I feel safe wrapped up in his arms. This is a freak thing that happened, but one of the risks of having your own store is that someone might try to rob you.
It could have been a lot worse.
“Butcher!”
I look up at the entrance to the kitchen and see a bunch of Devil Souls members walk through that door: Kyle, Ryan, Torch, Techy, Vinny, Jack, Trey, and Locke.
“What the fuck happened?” Kyle asks and takes a step forward.
“Someone tried to rob me.” I feel a lot better now, and I can hear it in my voice. I tighten my grip on Butcher and move away slightly, but his hand on my back presses me against him tighter than before. I guess I am not moving.
“We will get this shit cleaned up. Smiley on his way?” Kyle asks and whistles as he takes in the guy sitting up against the wall holding a towel to his crotch. Kyle’s body stiffens and he looks at me. “This your work?”
I nod. “He said some offensive things.”
Kyle grins and then looks at the other members. “We will be having some fun later, boy, and wait till you meet her dad.”
I grin at that.
We hear a roar of motorcycles outside, and I look up at Butcher. He kisses my forehead, and I close my eyes, letting the feeling of safety and everything Butcher wash over me.
I hear my door open and the sound of a lot of footsteps. I guess the uncles came too. First my father is through the door, then Lane, and then everyone else. Butcher stiffens and takes a step back like he is ready to run off with me, hiding me from everyone.
My father couldn’t give two fucks, though. He plucks me out of Butcher’s arms and into his. “I have never been so fucking scared in my life. Don’t do that shit again.” I laugh slightly at that because Butcher said the same thing. Butcher may have let my father have me, but he is still touching me.
“Dad, my turn.” Lane steals me from my dad, and I feel Butcher moving with me. One by one, I am passed around to all twenty people.
“What the fuck happened, Shay?” My father asks once I am free of everyone. Butcher backs away from everyone, tucking me close to his body, and he ignores all the glares he is getting from the members of Lane’s club.
“I was here in the back, and I heard a loud crash.” I go into full detail, even repeating exactly what the man said to me. The culprit is very much alive and is staring at everyone wide eyed, looking terrified.
I can’t feel sorry for someone when earlier he threatened to kill me and do awful stuff to me. I am getting mad again thinking about it.
Smiley and Lane step forward at the same time, but my father is the only one who smiles like it’s the best day on Earth. “Big mistake,” Dad says. The guy looks like he is going to piss himself, but I am not sure he can do that anymore, considering. Smiley looks down at the blood and then at me, grinning. “You blew his dick off.” He turns back to the man. “Did she do it smiling?”
My mouth pops open, and I stare at my father in shock. Did he just ask that? The guy nods and pales further.
Dad grins at everyone and says, “That’s my baby girl.”
There is no hope of escaping from my dad. I wrap my arms around Butcher and lay my head on his chest, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.
“I’m taking her home. I will be at the club later for some fun.” Butcher growls at the last part, and everyone in the room nods. Butcher practically carries me through the back door.
Butcher
The phone call that fucking changed my life. Her father called me, and it only took the sound of her name coming out of his mouth to spring me into action. I ran across the parking lot and crossed the street in what seemed like hours but was only a few seconds. I heard a gunshot just as I stepped on the sidewalk. I threw the door open, took my gun out, and shot the fucker who was heading for the back and then the other, who was standing behind the counter. I yelled her name, and when she answered I almost fell to the fucking ground in relief.
I run into the kitchen, and she seems like she is perfectly fine. I look at the man lying on the ground, a few feet away from her, out cold. I split the distance from her and wrap her in my arms. I breathe in her scent and touch her all over to make sure she isn’t hurt and to remind myself she is still here.
Rage is something I have become accustomed to, but it’s nothing compared to my rage over something happening to her. I am going to track down every single person who had a part in this and rip them apart.
Someone moans, and I look around to see the man with a shot to the dick.
I ask her why she did it, and I know the reason before she even tells me.
I look at the man and mouth to him, “Dead man.” He pales and I grin at him. This is going to be fucking fun.
Shaylin
I just want to go home and curl up in bed, binge watching TV. Today has been awful. Never once did I think I would be robbed in the middle of the day. I just can’t wrap my head around it or the fact that I shot him in the dick. I do believe he deserved that, though.
Butcher is half carrying me out of the store as he takes me to his motorcycle. I feel him looking at me, and I know he is concerned. I will be fine. I just want to get away from all of the bodies.
Most of all I just want Butcher to hold me.
We reach his bike. He puts the leather jacket on me, and I look up at him. His eyes are searching my face, and I give him a small smile. Butcher’s whole body relaxes, and he touches the side of my face. “There’s my Shay.”
That brings a full grin to my face, and I fall into his arms. I close my eyes, as my head lands on his warm chest, and breathe in his scent. His lips touch the top of my head, and I twist my hands in the back of his shirt.
“Let’s go home.” I drop my hands and step back. Butcher climbs on his bike, and I climb on behind him. He starts the bike and I snuggle up to him, wrap my arms around his middle, and rest my head on his back.
He takes off and drives out of the parking lot, then onto the highway, but not in the direction of my house.
“Where are we going?” I yell to him so he can hear me over the bike.
“My home.”
His house? I’m okay with that. I am curious about where he lives.