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“Ezra is a thug. He’s nothing, just a gangbanger who you’re slumming it with,” Patrick shot back.
“Ezra is anything but a thug. He’s everything I hoped you would be, kind, compassionate, caring, loyal, and respectful, to name a few of his traits. Ezra doesn’t feel the need to fuck someone else because he can. And he never would cheat on me. That I know for a fact!”
“Dana, you’re deluding yourself; men like Ezra cheat constantly.”
“And so do assholes like you.”
Patrick glowered at me. I saw the anger in his face and knew he hadn’t honestly listened last time.
“Why do you want me back?”
“Because you’re beautiful, caring, and you’ve grown. You’d never have spoken to me like this; you weren’t strong enough. Dana, you’re amazing. And together, we achieve great things,” Patrick said earnestly.
“And my contacts would help your career,” I suggested, and Patrick nodded.
“Yes. Together, we would be unstoppable.”
“The fuck we would. You want me back because of my contacts. Honestly, Patrick, do you think I would believe this bullshit? Ezra wants me for me. Not the people I can introduce to his life. God, Lord, get over yourself. You’re nothing remarkable.”
Patrick straightened, and an ugly expression crossed his face. Shit, I’d pushed him too far.
“Think you’re special? Dana, it’s no wonder I fucked your sister. You were frigid. If you don’t acquaint me with people, you’ll regret it,” he hit back.
“Frigid, is that why you love fucking women that look barely legal? Oh yeah, I know about it—and about how you like taking it up the ass. Do you think I should feel ashamed because you didn't know how to arouse me? Ezra kisses me, and I’m soaking wet. He touches me, and I crave more. You were like a wet fish, climb on top, bang away, and off you fucked. No finesse or anything. Yeah, I’m aware of your secrets, Patrick, so don’t threaten me!” I yelled.
Patrick paled. “What did you say?”
“You heard me, and putting this quite bluntly, fuck off!”
A lethal voice behind Patrick exclaimed, “Enough!”
Patrick spun around as I raised my gun. I lowered it instantly on seeing it was Ezra, who was glowering at Patrick with hate in his eyes. Hell, I hadn’t even heard him return.
“You come here, giving Dana crap, when it’s you who’s the piece of shit. Who the fuck do you think you are? Dana dumped you because you’re a cheating motherfucker. Dana is mine. She’ll never be yours again, and if you come around again… well… what you hear about Rage isn’t all lies,” Ezra seethed.
Patrick took one look between Ezra and me and then scurried away.
“Pissed at you!” Ezra said, pointing a finger at me. “You promised to stay safe.”
“I did, and I meant it. Patrick was forcefully banging on the door. I didn’t want trouble, and I had my gun,” I replied.
“It’s because you had that”—he nodded to the weapon—“I ain’t paddling your ass red. Now, let’s put that scene behind us and eat before it gets cold. We’ve two movies to watch,” Ezra said.
A little shocked Ezra had let this go so easily, I followed him into the kitchen and dished up our meals. We collapsed again on the sofa, eating them as Jaws played merry hell on the screen.
Once we’d eaten, Ezra dragged me back into his lap, and I snuggled in. I could definitely get used to this.
Chapter Eight.
Fury.
Drake Michaelson was an annoying little prick. He hadn’t learnt his lesson all those years ago, and now the asshole strutted around like his shit didn’t stink. Fury scowled as he sat in his office, deep in the Florida chapter’s clubhouse bowels. Drake also had the luck of the fuckin’ devil.
However, Fury was the devil, and he was claiming Drake’s luck back. He wanted what was his.
Drake and that brainless thug Chance would go down, and Fury would add their land, money, women, and children to the Venomous Fangs. Fury slammed a fist down on the table. Fury knew he was getting old, but not enough he wouldn’t rain blood and brimstone down on Rapid City and the surrounding towns.
Rage thought they were strong.
