One Chance, Fancy (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 5)

Luckily, she’d been able to resituate herself, but I’d remembered those few heart-pounding moments both visibly and audibly.

Which had me freezing in my tracks as I took stock of the situation surrounding me.

The area I was in was well-lit thanks to my father making it so, but unfortunately, this area being well-lit meant that I couldn’t see outside of it thanks to the growing darkness.

I slipped the protective glove onto my hand and then made a smooching sound at Phantom.

Phantom’s wings spread, and she flew the very short distance to where she’d been perched to my arm. The strength of her claws hadn’t so much as resituated her weight when something came crashing out of the bushes on my right.

Instinctively, I lifted my arm and gave Phantom a lift, hoping she could make it to the tree above my head to protect herself before whatever it was coming out of the bushes could get to me.

My dad had six fenced-in acres for a backyard, and this fence was the one that paralleled the highway on the backside and the front gate area on the left.

Heart pounding, Phantom took off from my arm, and I was left to brace for whatever it was that was making its way—noisily—toward me.

Opening my mouth, I instinctively took a bracing step back and lifted my arms up to cover my face just as a battering ram hit me.

I went down to the ground hard as another person landed on top of me.

“Where’s my daughter?” a woman growled, fingernails digging into my arms that were still up over my face.

I dropped my hands slightly to look at the woman straddling me.

She was dressed in all black, all the way down to her boots that were planted on either side of me.

Her eyes were crazy, too, as I stared at her in disbelief.

“What? Who are you?” I struggled to get free.

The woman sat on me as I wiggled.

“I asked you a question.” She dug those fingernails in harder.

“Who are you?” I asked, pulling away.

I bucked my hips to try to dislodge her, but the woman had at least a foot of height and about seventy-five pounds on me. She wasn’t fat, but she was definitely bulky. My dad would’ve said she was made of ‘sturdy material.’

I lifted my hand and reared back, letting it snap forward just like my father had taught me.

My fist hit the curve of her cheekbone with a crack, causing her to momentarily stop digging her fucking nails into my arm.

I used it to my advantage and yanked away while also twisting to the side.

When her weight shifted, I shifted as well, causing her to fall off of me all in the same movement.

Once I was up and on my feet, I started reaching for the gun that was at my ankle—something that I’d practiced a thousand times before—when she produced one of her own and wielded it at my face.

I froze and lifted my hands up high over my head, terror starting to take over the rational thoughts to my brain.

The back door opened and I could hear my father talking to someone—either my mom or Isa. My luck, probably both.

They were the last two people I wanted out here right now.

My mother was considered more of a lover and not a fighter, and despite my dad’s teachings over the years, tended to lean more toward passive than aggressive.

Hell, when we’d deserved spankings over the years, she hadn’t been the one to dole them out. My father had.

“Step back and make your way into the light,” the woman who I now realized was Ilsa said.

I could see her face now, and there was no doubt in my mind that she was Isa’s mother.

Once we’d realized how much trouble she was stirring up around us, Bayou had gone out of his way to make sure that everyone in the club, as well as the women, knew who she was.

He’d also let Pru see multiple pictures of her throughout the years so that she would know who it was even if she had decided to change her appearance.

“Another step back,” Ilsa ordered.

I did right around the same time that I heard Bayou’s laugh.

My heart skipped a beat.

Ilsa’s eyes narrowed and she momentarily took her eyes away from me to glare up the length of the yard in the direction that I could now hear my father and Bayou talking.

He’d made it.

Thank God.

“Bastard,” Ilsa hissed and turned her eyes back to me.

However, that was all the distraction that Phantom needed. One second she was perched on the tree above our heads, and the next she was coming down hard, claws extended.

A gunshot sounded just as Phantom’s claws connected with the soft tissue of Ilsa’s face.

I gasped and fell to the ground, hoping to avoid being hit by any stray bullets, just as Phantom launched herself back upward and Ilsa began to scream.