BULL

She mumbles the entire time I drag her out of her house. She bitches about “needing that” and “I can’t possibly go anywhere without this” which has me hiding the smirk that wants to break free.

“What victim do you know, that has prior knowledge of their impending death, that’d stop in their tracks in order to pack a bag of clothing and bathroom shit when they’re trying not to die?” I ask, wanting her to think clearly about what is going on around her and how suspicious that’d be to her family.

“I guess some of my clothing and bathroom supplies missing would raise some eyebrows,” she mutters, dragging her feet behind me. “I need to lock the house, Bull.”

“Babe.” I sigh, trying to reel in my frustration as I begin speaking slowly, “We want it to look like you fled in a hurry.”

“Even in a rush, I’d never leave my house unlocked, Bull. That’d look more suspicious to Trent and his wife, Monica, than if I were to leave it locked,” she hisses.

“Fine,” I snap, deciding it’s better and it’ll get us moving faster if I were to give in and lock her house up, than it is to stand here in the middle of her yard, arguing about it. “Where are your keys and purse?”

“Hanging on the hook to the left of my door,” she answers, a triumphant look on her face.

“You won’t always get your way, Dot,” I growl as I stomp up her front porch and fling open the screen door. The force behind my strength has it flinging open then snapping back behind me. The ricocheting of its closing has my spine and shoulders stiffening. I’m jumpy because I want to get us out of here and inside the safety of the compound as soon as fucking possible.

The entire time I’m away from her, I’m still watching Dottie out of the side of my eye, not taking my vision away from her. This would be the perfect chance for the Crumley brothers to snatch her up and whisk her away. Grabbing her purse and keys, I quickly lock up and make my way back to her.

Dottie holds out her hand for her purse, instead, I shake my head and tuck it into my saddlebags while pushing her keys into the front pocket of my jeans. Lifting my helmet from my seat, I strap it on her head and straddle my bike, knowing I won’t give an inch on this, that our usual argument about me not wearing a helmet so she can holds no merit as far as I’m concerned. Her life is more valuable and precious than mine will ever be.

With an appalled shake of her head, she climbs on behind me. “Your name suits you well, Bull, because you’re as hardheaded as they come,” she whispers in my ear as I crank the engine. My only response is a smile sent her way through my side mirror before I back us out of her driveway. Once we’re in the street, I shoot forward which has her snuggling closer to me. With her tits plastered to my back and her arms wrapped securely around my chest, I haul ass back to the club.

The entire time we ride, my eyes scan the roads, making sure we’re not being followed.

* * *

When I pull through the gates, the prospect in charge, Beckett, closes and padlocks the chain behind us.

“Wow,” Dot says as she takes in the clubhouse. “Y’all take security seriously.”

“We have enemies lurking around every corner who’d love nothing more than to attack if the opportunity were to present itself, Polka Dot. Our kids and women staying safe is of utmost importance to us, babe. They’re always our first priority above everything else,” I remark as I pat her thigh, indicating that I want her to dismount. “Speaking of, I won’t breathe easy until you’re behind closed doors.”

“What the hell have you dragged me into, Bull?”

“War, darlin’. A war none of us anticipated would happen so soon,” I confess as I bend over and remove her purse then shuffle her into the clubhouse.

And we walk smack dab into an argument taking place between my brother and his sister. “The kids need their toys, Gunner.”

“We can’t take any chances here, Charlee. We’ll get them more toys,” Gunner barters.

“Then you can be the one to walk the halls with Hunter while he’s screaming at the top of his lungs. You can trust me on this, when he realizes he doesn’t have his snuggly blanket or the stuffed wolf he sleeps with all hell’s gonna break loose.” Charlee stomps her foot, her face an angry shade of molten red.

“He better give in or she’s gonna spew,” Dottie whispers in my ear.

“You have no idea, darlin’,” I comment. “She’s like an unstable volcano and we never know when it's going to erupt.”

Gunner finally gives in when his old lady, Cameron, joins in. “Mane can’t sleep without her doll and pillow, Gun. You know this. How many times have you had to leave and go grab them when we’re here and forgot them back at home? Tornadoes are more fun to ride out than Mane is when she throws a monumental fit.”

“Fine, but only grab their things of comfort, and only if they fit into one bag,” Gunner orders. When Charlee and Cameron get a triumphant smile on their faces, he amends his edict. “A small bag, ladies. One that you can strap and carry yourselves. Got me?”

Their faces fall, but they quickly realize that they won’t get any more than what he’s already given, and they should surrender while they’re ahead. “Okay, big brother,” Charlee states, lifting up and giving him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get outta here and get the shit packed up and ready to go. There won’t be any stalling when Pops gets here,” he presses, his lips drawn in a fine line.

“We’ll be ready, babe,” Cameron promises as Gunner leans down and captures her lips.

“I feel like a voyeur,” Dot admits, twisting her body and burying her head in my neck.

“Might wanna get used to it, darlin’, we’re an affectionate bunch,” I say, before lifting her chin with my finger and planting my own kiss to her delectable lips, branding her as mine in front of my brothers.

A cat whistle catches my attention. “We get it, brother, hands off the merchandise,” Texas jokes.

“Stop yanking his chain, Texas, or he’s gonna beat your ass,” Malice admonishes.

A giggle erupts from Dot when Bullet, Powerhouse and Salem’s newest family member, struts up to Texas, and pisses on his boots. “Oh, come on!” Texas hollers, tossing his hands wildly in the air. “Enough with the golden showers, Bullet.”

“It means he likes you,” Dot giggles. “It’s his way of claiming ownership over you.”

“See,” Texas points out, “told you Bullet likes me best.”

A roar of laughter reverberates through the room because none of us believe that to be the case here. That dog is putting Texas beneath him in the ranking order.