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“Calm down, honey.”

I thumped the gun against his sternum, “Believe me, asshole. I’m calm.”

I eyed his friends, but they didn’t seem to be any threat. Hell, they looked amused for the most part.

“Why?” I repeated, my voice climbing right along with my emotions.

“Why what? Brenna… I don’t–”

“Why would you do that to my son?” I felt unhinged, eyes glistening and heart racing.

I’d have to kill them all. I’d never even taken to fishing really, let alone hunting; and now I was standing here plotting the death of an entire MC.

“So be it,” I whispered to myself.

I’d take on an army for my boys, what were a few outlaws?

“Brenna,” Cole’s hands shook as he slowly reached for the gun.

I panicked and jerked it upward, the weight of the gun never heavier in my hands as my vision blurred and I began to hurl accusations at him.

“You brought my son into your outlaw world. You made him kill to what? Earn one of your cute little vests?”

“Hey,” the stringy-haired one spoke up in defense of his club.

“Shut up, nobody pulled your string, puppet boy.” I thrust the gun toward Cole, in an effort to keep him focused.

I know it wasn’t an explosion, but it sounded like one when his brother grabbed my wrist and I accidentally squeezed the trigger.

“Don’t” Cole barked, before I even comprehended that he was still alive.

He blanketed me with his arms while I shoved and struggled.

“Get off that stupid bitch, she needs to pay,” a familiar rasp demanded.

It wasn’t just his voice that made me shiver, it was the stench of his breath. His hand curled around Cole’s shoulder and everything in the room disappeared.

Everything but the ridiculously big ring, and the nub of a finger it sat on.

Nausea gripped me as memories came rushing back.

“You’re all evil. Stay away from my boys. Just– Stay away!” I wailed at Cole.

My emotions and temper were spiking and waning. I’d forgotten all about the gun, until I’d stormed back to the car and slammed the driver’s door.

“Hey!” Cole barked.

I turned on the ignition and scrambled to put the vehicle into park. I put my foot on the gas, and that fool stepped in front of the car.

I slammed on the brakes and he extended his hand, making my heart miss a beat until I realized the gun wasn’t pointed at me.

“Take it with you. You don’t want to leave that lying around in bars; especially not these kinds,” he called, over the dull hum of the car engine.

I felt like someone was gripping my throat, the tears were streaming hot and heavy. How had I allowed someone into our lives that had the ability to bring such terror into my heart?

How was I so blind to everything he’d done to my family?

“I didn’t invite your son into this club. No one did. That’s not how this works, Brenna. He asked to hang out with us. We stood behind him when he was locked up, well, as best we could when he wasn’t in solitary. That business that happened back at his college had nothing to do with us,” he drawled, while rounding toward the driver’s side.