Satan's Revenge by Celia Loren

Author:Celia Loren [Loren, Celia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Women's Fiction, Contemporary Women, Romance, Contemporary, New Adult & College, Contemporary Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Crime
Amazon: B00NH0MUMQ
Publisher: Hearts Collective Publishing
Published: 2014-09-08T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Drifter

Present Day

I’m pulled into Flint’s office. I glance behind me just in time to see Tag throw a towel at Marcus, which he raises to his bleeding face. Bean pauses behind me as Flint crosses to sit behind his desk. Flint nods at him and Bean leaves, shutting the door behind him.

“Sit,” Flint says. I stare back at him, feeling the pain in my throat from where he almost crushed my larynx. “Sit!” he barks.

I slide down into a chair opposite him. Feeling his anger directed at me is new. I shift in the seat, staring at a random spot on his desk.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growls at me. “Your behavior would be disgraceful for any brother in this club, but for someone that I’ve made clear is going to be taking over a leadership position…that’s a fucking embarrassment. For me, for you, for the whole goddamn club. Well?”

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I ask, repeating his question with a snort. My voice comes out as a hoarse rasp. How am I supposed to answer that?

He leans back in his chair, considering me.

“You’re acting more like a teenager now than when you were an actual teenager,” he muses. “I know he’s your blood, but Marcus is a piece of shit, you know that, right?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hiss. Fury rises quickly inside of me, as it always does when someone talks badly about my brother.

“You watch how you talk to me, Scott,” Flint warns, his voice dangerously quiet. I haven’t heard him call me by that name in years. “I don’t care how fucking pissed you are. You’re driving everyone around you away, and you’ve got your head so far up your ass you can’t even see it. Me, your brothers, Violet…”

I laugh harshly. “Violet!? Christ, I don’t even know how to talk to her anymore. She’s gone off the deep end…she stalks my brother, she thought she saw Ace the other week…” A pain rises in my throat that I know has nothing to do with Flint’s chokehold. I’m making light of whatever’s happening between Violet and me, but the truth is I feel like I’m spinning out of control without her.

“She saw Ace?” Flint asks, more sharply than I expected.

“Yeah, but apparently he’s a skinhead now,” I add. “She’s been having these panic attacks ever since that night Rooster died.”

“Yeah, Liz told me,” Flint murmurs.

“I mean, she thought Marcus was after her the first time she met him and attacked him.”

“Well, she probably had a good idea there,” Flint says wryly. My eyes snap up to his and he glares back, daring me to say anything. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you laid a hand on my old lady when you’re so dismissive of yours.”

He reaches down and opens his desk drawer and pulls something out, tossing a pair of mangled handcuffs on the table.

“What are those?”

“Those are the handcuffs that Violet used to handcuff Ace on the night that the Army attacked us.

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