Devil's Vengeance (Sydney Storm MC 3)

My teeth clenched with determination. “You want me to let you go, motherfucker?”

Both his hands gripped mine as he fought me, but I didn’t ease my hold. He tried to speak, but the only sounds to come from him were grunts because I’d blocked his ability to talk.

“It wasn’t a question that required an answer,” I said.

“This guy doesn’t like to give answers,” the woman muttered.

I made a poor judgement call when I turned and glanced at her. The asshole used the opportunity to take a swing at me. The surprise of his fist connecting with my cheek caused my grip on him to loosen, giving him the chance to wedge his fingers between his throat and my hand.

“Fuck,” I muttered, getting my head back in the game.

A moment later, my first punch almost knocked him to the ground. My second punch did. He’d chosen the wrong man to fuck with—I didn’t earn the name Devil for no fucking reason.

If it hadn’t been for someone pulling me off the asshole, I would have continued my assault. However, just as I was getting started, I found myself yanked back and slammed up against the brick fence on the footpath.

I scowled as I met Bronz

e’s eyes. “The fuck?”

Clenching his jaw, he jabbed a finger at me. “Wait here.” At my brow lift, he added, “Trust me when I tell you that this shit is the last thing you need to get mixed up in this week. Wait the fuck here.”

Without another word, he turned and reached for the dark-haired woman. Snapping his hand around her wrist, he drew her attention and engaged her in a conversation that I couldn’t hear over the noise of the crowd. She appeared just as fiery with him as she’d been with me. However, after a minute or so, he managed to get her to agree to follow him back to where I stood waiting.

“Follow me,” he barked as he headed towards the side street closest to us.

Following a cop’s orders was the last thing I wanted to do, but something in his tone caused me to take heed. I wondered what he knew about the activities Storm had planned for this week. Dealing with Bronze was King’s gig; I’d hardly had anything to do with him, so I didn’t know how deep in our business he actually was. But I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been made aware of the shit going down this week. Having the cops on our side would help things run much smoother.

I followed him and the woman to his car parked on the side street. However, when he ordered me to get in the back, I refused. “What the fuck is going on?”

He watched as the woman settled into the back seat before answering me. Stepping close and lowering his voice, he said, “You’re going to get in the back. I’m going to drive you away from this shit fight to your bike. And then you’re going to head straight to your clubhouse because you’ll be needed there in about”—he checked his watch—“an hour or so. Where’s your bike parked?”

Before I could answer him, his phone rang. Pressing it to his ear, he said, “What’s up?” His face scrunched into annoyance as he listened for a moment. He then said, “I’m on it,” and ended the call.

“What’s going on at the clubhouse? What the fuck do you know?”

Glaring at me, he appeared to be contemplating something. I knew what that was when he whipped a set of handcuffs from his pocket and snapped them over my wrists. “Get in the car. I have to go deal with another fight that just broke out and then I’ll be back to deal with you.”

“Fuck! You are fucking kidding, Bronze! I’ve got shit to do. Just let me go so I can fucking do it.”

“Yeah, see the problem with that is I know the chances are high that you’ll get yourself involved in another fucking fight along the way with these protesting assholes. And like I said, today isn’t a day you need to be getting involved in any shit besides your club shit. So get the fuck in the car and wait for me.”

Anger rolled through me. That, and frustration. But I knew when I was down, and I was fucking down. I did what he said and got in his goddam car. He slammed the door closed and left me alone with the dark-haired beauty. At least there was that.

“Arguing with him is pointless,” she said, shifting so she faced me with one leg on the seat, her foot tucked under her other leg.

Struggling to keep my eyes on her face rather than all over her body, I said, “You know him?”

“You could say that.”

“He’s arrested you at one of these protests before?” Not that it appeared Bronze had arrested her, but she was sitting in the back of his car, so I wasn’t sure what else you’d call it.

She smiled. It lit her whole face up, and my dick jerked his appreciation. Fuck, she was beautiful. Between her big brown eyes, her full lips that were painted in the deepest red lipstick and a face that would cause any man a lapse in concentration, I had to force myself to keep my head clear of the thoughts trying to take over. The kind of thoughts that made me want to reach for her so I could drag those lips to mine.

“He has,” she said, jolting me back to the conversation.

“So protesting for animal rights is your thing?”

“It’s one of them.”