“Fucking asshole.”

Bishop kept on calling his father all those wonderful names he wouldn’t dream of saying to his face. Deep down, she knew Bishop was a little jealous of his father.

Preacher was a large man. Maybe six-four, or even a bit taller. He was one of the tallest, scariest people in town. Her father was next in line, but he wasn’t as dominating in his presence as Preacher.

He also commanded respect, and he didn’t even need to do a whole lot. Most of the time, there was a look.

That was all it took, a single look, and she’d witnessed people roll over for him. Being an MC kid, she’d seen a great deal, and nothing in life surprised her. Preacher was known for being a ladies’ man, and well, she’d seen exactly what the women would do just to vie for his affection, or even just a moment to call themselves Preacher’s. Most of the time she would do her homework at the library or at home. After an argument between her parents, Bear dropped Robin off at the clubhouse, and she got to see many of the club women in action. Some of the guys referred to the girls who didn’t have a man at the club as whores, free pussy, club whores, holes, sluts, and many other names that called them objects rather than women. When she realized what the women did at the club, she’d been shocked. She had wondered if they were in some way owned and had no choice in the matter, but then she’d started to see, that wasn’t the case, not even a little bit. The women were there for a couple of reasons. They loved the life, and, being club property, they were taken care of. Most of the club women didn’t have a job outside of taking care of the men. Some were after a brother to be able to call themselves an old lady, and a few just liked to be passed around. The more men they slept with, the happier they were. Again, she didn’t know why Preacher was such a high target. Preacher wasn’t nice. Yes, he was the club president, but again he wasn’t nice.

He was as mean as they came.

If he wasn’t in the mood to be around the women, he had no qualms about pushing or shoving them away, speaking to them harshly, or even walking into a room, grabbing one of the women, and marching her back to the office.

Pushing those thoughts from her mind, Robin saw the main gate was up ahead. It was open, which meant they were expecting them.

The moment Bishop slowed down and turned into the grounds, he stopped.

Preacher and Bear stood together, both of them looking really pissed off.

Great.

She’d done nothing wrong, apart from going with her friend, which didn’t exactly help her.

Hands shaking a little bit, she unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car. Bishop slammed his door closed, and she did hers gently. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself.

Her father had never hit her.

She sometimes wondered if he even knew her mother did hit her, the random slap around the face, or back of the head. Rebecca, her mother, didn’t ever need a reason to scold her daughter.

“See, we’re back here in one piece,” Bishop said.

Attitude dripped from his voice, and she winced. This wasn’t the best way to try to win over his father.

Clearly, Preacher was pissed.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re speaking to, kid?” Preacher stepped up close.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“That’s right. I’m your fucking lord and master, and you think I’ve got time to deal with the useless pranks you pull. One of these days, junior, you’re going to realize I’m not going to help you. You’re going to push one step too far. Did you know your principal wanted to report you for kidnapping?” Preacher looked past him at her, and she stayed perfectly still.

“Principal asshole doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s had it in for me from the start. You can’t trust him. He’s—”

Preacher grabbed Bishop’s face and spun him around to look at her. “What am I fucking seeing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Look closely.”

She wanted to run.

She looked over at her father, and Bear was clearly pissed as well.

Preacher thrust his son away from him and stalked toward her, grabbing her arm but being sure not to do where there might be glass.

“What is this?”

“She got hurt. It’s no big deal, right, Robin?”

“Get in my car, Robin, now!” Preacher growled each word out, and there was no way she was going to disobey him. She walked over to his car slowly, glancing back to see Preacher slap his son around the back of the head.

“You’ve got to learn to think. You’re so fucking tough, but you can’t even help someone. She’s your friend. You disgust me. Get to your room, now. You even think of leaving and I’ll cut your dick off and shove it up your ass.”


Tags: Sam Crescent In the Arms of Monsters Romance
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