I laughed, thinking of the tantrum she had last night when she found out Brock had demanded she sleep in his room, with the prospects enforcing it. After many curse words, she had decided she would barricade herself in the room, locking Brock out. Guess he got in.
But what a fine ass it is.
I knew my text back would get a reaction.
Be ready to leave in 5. I added, deciding we could get breakfast on the way.
“You’re not going anywhere, Gwen,” Cade growled from over my shoulder, obviously reading my text.
I jumped, not even hearing him approach. I regained my composure whirling on him. “You have to stop reading my texts over my shoulder. I hate it,” I scolded, frowning at him, which was hard to do when he was only wearing a towel.
“Get used to it babe, got to keep an eye on you somehow. Especially when you have crazy ass ideas like leaving the club. Your store is closed until we sort this shit.” His tone was serious.
Anger bubbled up inside me and I was barely able to stop myself from slapping him. “Excuse me?” I asked quietly.
Cade crossed his arms, trying to intimidate me with his macho stance. “Your store is closed until we get these pricks out of the picture. It’s an easy target, too vulnerable.”
My temper flared to epic proportions. “You think you have the right to dictate whether my business opens or not? Are you fucking insane?” I shouted, going toe to toe with him, even if I only came up to his shoulders with heels on.
“You think for one second I’m taking a risk with your safety, Gwen? The store is closed, end of story.” His voice was raised, he obviously wasn’t used to people arguing with the great and powerful Cade.
“Fuck that!” I screeched. “There is no way in hell you’re telling me how to run my business. I have staff that expect to get paid, orders to fill, it’s my fucking livelihood. Those thugs aren’t going to come back, they aren’t that stupid. I am not letting this shit run my life, not again.” I was breathing heavily, anger pulsing through me.
Cade’s eyes flared and he turned away from me, his arm sweeping across his dresser, sending everything on top crashing to the ground. I jumped at his sudden outburst but refused to back down.
“How the fuck am I even going to think straight knowing you’re vulnerable? Anything could happen to you and I won’t fucking be there!” He whirled back around to face me, his voice raised to a yell, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“Well you’re just going to have to find a way to deal with it. You’re not stopping me from living my life! I refuse to let this shit stop me from doing anything, and I am not dealing with your macho man shit today!” I yelled back, breathing heavily, anger like a fire ripping through me.
Cade’s face turned into a mask of pure anger. He prowled up to me, pushing me against the wall. My heart threatened to beat out of my chest as he wrapped his hand around my neck, applying enough pressure that I felt the strength he had, but not enough to hurt me.
“Why can’t you just do as I fucking say? No arguments,” he hissed, eyes dark.
I didn’t recognize his face with this much anger directed at me. “Get your hands off me,” I managed to wheeze out as I tried to push his iron chest.
Cade glanced down at his hand with disgust and immediately released me, taking two steps back. I rubbed my neck trying to get my breathing steady. I glanced up at him, unable to fathom what just happened. Cade’s face was marred with regret. I straightened and reached over and grabbed my bag and phone. Cade stayed frozen, looking down at his hands as if he was unable to believe what they had just done.
“I’m going, you can’t keep me prisoner here. I have a life to live,” I said quietly but firmly, looking at him with determination in my eyes.
He lifted his head, his face blank. “I’ll put Skeet and Rosco on you. You are not to leave their sight.” His voice was low, dead.
I nodded and walked quietly to the door, unable to be in the room any more. He didn’t say a word as I exited.
“Come on Amy, let’s blow this popsicle stand,” I called through Brock’s door, surprised she wasn’t sitting at the bottom of the stairs waiting for me to exit.
The door flew open and an angry looking Brock stormed past, giving me a stiff chin lift. Amy followed him out, flipping the bird to his back.
“Asshole,” she muttered.
“Bitch,” I heard him yell over his shoulder.
Despite my somber mood I couldn’t help but be a bit amused even if I still didn’t know what was going on with Amy and my brother.
“Whoa what’s going on there?” I teased playfully.
Amy glared at me. “Don’t. Even. Ask.”
I guessed everyone’s day was starting off like shit. We made it to the common room and saw Skeet and Rosco waiting for us.
“Ready to go ladies?” Rosco asked politely.
I gave him a proper look, he wasn’t bad looking, ripped of course but that seemed to be a requirement for being in the club. He kind of reminded me of some of the sleazy Italian guys back in New York. Slicked back black hair shining with grease, a gold chain around his neck and dark pronounced features. Not my cup of tea, but nothing to sneeze at. Skeet was a bit smaller, still built but leaner, with more of a runner’s body. He wore slim black pants and a tight wife beater under his cut, making him look even slimmer. He had amazing curls, which contrasted with his harsh face, scarred in a permanent grimace with a line going from his eyebrow to mouth. I wonder how he got that.
“What the fuck is this?” Amy hissed, gesturing to the men.