Free Rage by Kaylee Song

Uncle Mick.  I’d get to work, but there I couldn’t promise anyone I wouldn’t marvel at the men before me when they were hot as hell. 
    I knew it was going to get me into a heap of trouble.  I wasn’t sure I cared.

Cullen
    I  walked up just in time to see her eyeing Thrash like a hot mess.  Great.  Just what I wanted to.  For her to come back and go for someone else.
    I was pissed, but I tried not to show it.  There wasn’t anything I could do about it. 
    Thrash was one of us, even if he wasn’t white.  Hell, we weren't that kinda club.  We didn’t discriminate, as long as someone in their line came from Ireland.  We were a club born out of old connections to the mob and an old immigrant history.  Bloodlines were muddy and rich in America; and Thrash belonged by blood. 
    Besides, he had just as much of a right to Layla as anyone else, and we’d all been friends since childhood.
    But that didn’t mean I didn’t want to smash his face in just for looking at her.
    I glared at them both.
    “What the hell are you looking at?” I asked Thrash when his eyes finally met mine.  I was pissed off all the time lately.  How would they know this was different?
    “Your ugly face.” It was the standard retort between us, and it made me laugh, but not because it was funny.  Thrash noticed and caught my eye.  Words weren’t needed.  He knew something was bugging me.  And that it wasn’t really him.
    “You’re a little late, aren’t you?” Layla snipped at me, unimpressed.
    “What? No, I was just over at the shop getting a few things.  I have a list of duties for you, but Mick can walk you over and give you a rundown.  Everyone else, you have either shift work or patrols.  Tonight we meet to discuss the current situation of our club.  Five fifteen, got it? Not five-thirty or six.  Five-fifteen.  Well, everyone except for Mick and Troy.  They’ll be doing patrol then.
    “What business?” she asked, looking me over.  She really was concerned.
    “None of yours.” Mick spoke up in his sweet way, trying to make it sound like she didn’t want to know.  Maybe because she didn’t.
    Tonight we were going to discuss exactly how to get back at these little punks who’d started this war.
    “Anyways, as I was saying—”
    But no one was looking at me anymore.
    Everyone had turned their heads to look past me. 
    I heard the high heels before I saw her.  Hell, I could smell her before I saw her.  I didn’t even have to turn around, I knew it was Brandy. 
    “Cul, I—hicc—don’t understand how you could—hicc—do this to me.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in before I turned around.  Brandy, high and drunk, was waltzing in here, hiccupping and making demands.  She was in my clubhouse while we were trying to discuss business in the open bar.
    It wasn’t the first time she’d done this, but it sure as hell would be her last.
    “Brandy, I told you not to come around here no more.  Get the fuck out.  You want me to put your ass out on the ground again?”
    “You wouldn’t do that.  I’m a lady.  You won’t hurt me.  Not with all your boys watching.  Oh, and a girl.  Who’s that girl?” She burst out laughing suddenly.  “Why are you letting a girl in here when you’re meeting? That ain’t fair, Cullen.  I never got to come in here.” She would’ve rambled on, but I cut her off.
    “It’s none of your damn business.  Now get the fuck out.  I’m warning you.” I was at a low growl.  It was a warning cry, but I swore to God I would back it up if I had to.
    “You don’t gotta be mean.  I just want to talk.”
    “That’s it.” I’d had enough of her bullshit.  I picked her ass up like a sack of potatoes and started hauling her out.
    That was when she raked her claws down my back, so I gave her ass a smack.  Hard.
    I didn’t hit women, but when they deserved it, they sure as hell got a spank.
    She seemed to be caught between laughing and chewing me