Dancin' with Demons by Courtney Lynn Rose

Author:Courtney Lynn Rose
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: D2D
Publisher: Croí na Tine Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Renegade

The brothers yell and jest inside Church until Catacomb calls shit to order, and already, I miss bein’ in North Carolina with the only sounds fillin’ my ears bein’ Raylynn’s heartbeat, Savior's giggle, and the calmin’ waves. This club is my family, it’s a drivin’ force in my life, and nothin’ has ever come before it— until now. Too bad the only man here who can understand that feelin’ is my president. He’s the only one that’s found his other half. Catacomb picks this minute to slam his gavel against the solid oak table.

“Order!” His voice rings out, the room silencin’ almost instantly.

Someone clears their throat from the back half of the circular table. “So, Renegade, that hot piece of pussy is the famous Raylynn? When do we get to watch you claim that?”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth, Hammer,” Catacomb snaps before I can.

Takin’ a deep breath, I count to ten in my head and remind myself that killin’ him durin’ Church is gonna come with hella consequences.

“Aw, come on, Prez,” Hammer says again as I turn my head to glare down the table at him. “She looks like she’s got dem small, mouthful tits that bounce real hard when you fuck her from behind.”

Shovin’ my chair back, I let out a growl as I start toward the back of the room.

“Renegade, don’t,” Catacomb says, but his voice is almost resigned like he knows I ain’t gonna listen right now. “Renegade, damn it.”

My fist connects with Hammer’s face at the same time Catacomb cusses from the front of the room. Rearin’ back, I bring my fist down a second time, the bridge of his nose givin’ under my knuckle, followed by Hammer’s grunt of pain. Yankin’ him from his chair, I slide my arm around his neck and twist so my body is behind him, his head firmly locked against the bend in my elbow as I bring my other hand up to grab my wrist and squeeze until he’s flailin’ and wheezin’.

“If you ever so much as breath an inappropriate word about my future wife again, I’ll let Catacomb strip me of every patch and rocker on this cut for killin’ you, you get me, brother?” Hammer grunts again and tries to swing and hit me, but it’s half-assed at best since his face is pale and his wheezin’ shallow. A few more seconds, and he’ll go night-night for at least an hour.

“Makoa, enough,” Catacomb growls.

I grumble as I remove my arms from Hammer and let him drop, coughin’ and sputterin’ blood everywhere on all fours in front of the table, and turn to head back to my seat. Floppin’ in it, I glance up and catch Archangel’s eye, not missin’ the huge smirk on his face.

“My, my,” he says in the weird, smart-ass, but almost condescendin’ tone only my vice president has, “I do believe I see the former Renegade showin’ again.”

“You ain’t seen shit yet,” Catacomb quips, glancin’ down at Archangel. “Watch what happens if someone upsets the kid.

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