Chapter 38
Clinton
When I rush into the kitchen, the first thing I see are the King Vulture patches covering those broad, leather-clad backs. Vivian’s face is white and her eyes bulge out of her face as her gaze darts between them.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Franklin?” As usual, my brother flinches at the sound of his given name.
He turns to face me and squares off his shoulders. “It’s Prez,” he grits out. “I’m the president now.”
“Con-fucking-gratulations,” I say through a tight jaw as I take a step closer. “Now, again—what the fuck are you doing here?”
I can almost smell Vivian’s fear. “Clinton, please…” she says, silently begging me not to do anything stupid.
Franklin looks around at his men and the three of them share a sinister grin. “I think the better question is, what are you doing here, brother? In this humdrum little suburb with this pretty, All-American princess?” He slides his grimy fingers down Vivian’s cheek and I fucking snap. I lunge at him and she screams as Franklin’s thugs pull knives, pressing the glistening blades to the front of her throat.
I freeze and Vivian’s panicked gaze hooks onto mine. I’m agile and I pack a mean punch. Plus, I’m not scared to get blood under my fingernails when the need to defend myself arises. I can easily take Franklin and his men. But Vivian…she’s carrying my baby. I can’t let anything happen to her. To protect her, I’ve got to keep my temper under control and measure each move carefully.
My brother just rolls his eyes. “Vultures, stand down,” he orders them. “As a matter of fact, go take a walk. I need to have a private conversation with Prince Charming and Snow White here.”
The men grumble as they march out the front door, visibly disappointed that Vivian won’t be the one to quench their appetite for blood on this late November morning.
When the men step out of the room, my little brother’s tough guy façade falls away. His gaze drops to the floor and he tracks his fingers through his dark greasy hair. I know that look all too well.
I ask the question again, this time softer, hoping to catch a glimpse of the little brother I once had. “Why are you here?”
He glares at me, so much anger in his eyes. “Loyalty is the first rule of the Vultures family. You don’t get to just leave. You don’t get to just walk away. The MC was your mess to inherit. You were next in line after my father died. And you just cashed your check and rode off into the sunset and met some hot chick to go domestic with. Meanwhile, I’m stuck with MC politics rammed balls deep in my ass. You have to come back. Bring Ms. Disney Princess along with you. I don’t care. Because it’s getting real out here. Would you believe the Pink Fury MC stormed our compound last weekend?”
Vivian’s little voice rings out. “The all-female motorcycle club? I did a cupcake tower for their last annual meeting. Really sweet ladies.” She smiles proudly.
Franklin growls. “Those women are vicious. Outsiders don’t understand it. Rumor has it that all their menstrual cycles synced up. That’s why they’re so wicked. They’re a force to be reckoned with!”
I turn away and scrub my hands over my face to keep from laughing. “Dude—you can just leave the club. Let the chips fall where they may. Like I did.”
“And you look weak.”
“I’m not weak. I’m free and that takes strength. More strength than you have, apparently.”
That statement unleashes something in him. He lunges at me.
With the element of surprise on his side, he slams me backward. I hit the wall hard and he puts all his weight behind the punch he sends straight to my jaw. I grab him by his leather lapels and shove him off of me, then throw a sharp elbow at his ribs. Vivian’s screams in the background are a distraction. I just want to get to her and make sure she’s okay. But Franklin roars with pain and charges again, this time bringing his shoulder square into the middle of my chest. I lose my breath as the impact ejects the air from my lungs. In the two seconds it takes me to cough, Franklin’s fists are showering blows down on my head.
My hands come up to protect my skull. I chance a look over his shoulder just as Vivian is approaching with a bottle of champagne in her hands. She rears all the way back and I duck down just as she swings her arms forward with all her might. The bottle makes contact with my brother’s head and he stumbles to his knees, just as the cork pops out and champagne rains down all around us.
Stunned and proud as hell, I step in front of my woman. Mostly to protect my brother from her because the protective look in her eyes tells me that she’s ready to keep going. Ms. Suddenly-Badass.
Franklin’s men show up, bursting through the door to defend him. Panting and rubbing the back of his neck, my brother holds up a hand to stop them. “Leave them alone,” he mutters bitterly. “The girl’s even crazier than he is.” He rises to his feet, alcohol dripping from his hair. “They’ve earned their freedom and they’re prepared to defend it.”
I kiss Viv’s cheek. “You’re damn right about that.” I drape an arm around her shoulder.
Just as he’s about to slip out the door, his eyes come to mine. “Have a nice life, brother,” he mutters under his breath.
I pull him into a rough hug and slap him on the back. “Have a nice life, brother.” I take a snapshot of his face with my mind—his dark eyes, his crooked nose, his hard jaw—because I know it’s the last time I’ll ever see him. “And give my regards to our mother,” I spit out snarkily.