TWATKNOT

Hard rock blasts through the open field where the makeshift stage sits front and center amongst the sea of leather, beer, and scantily clad women.

V passes a fresh bottle my way. “Another beer, TK?” I’ve lost count of the number I’ve consumed since we made it to the music festival this morning. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this hammered, but it feels fucking good.

“Fuck yeah!” a girl next to me screams when they finish their song. “I love you, BSC!” Her small, but perky tits poke out of the thin white tank top, the material soaked through from the beer being sprayed into the crowd.

“What she said,” I slur, guzzling the liquid down my throat. It tastes too good for this early in the morning. If I keep this up, by the end of the week, my liver is going to demand an intervention.

“How you feelin’, big guy?” Priest asks Karma, who’s swaying on his feet. His response is to flip him off.

I laugh. “I’ll take it that you feel as good as me.”

To be honest, I’ve never seen him cut loose like he has this week. Although, he verbally assaulted me after getting back from shopping duty with the ladies. I probably deserved it, seeing as I plucked out the little lace number that Lindsey had picked out and attempted to model it for him. But meh, shit happens. So, besides that little hiccup, all my brothers seem relaxed. My idea to get away is doing us all some good. We needed this more than any of us realized, with all the shit that’s been thrown our way.

The pretty little groupie leans back and grinds her ass against my cock in time to the music.

“Are you dancing, fuckface?” V laughs. “Dude, you’re shit at it.”

If he was as drunk as I was, he’d be shit at it too. Ignoring his critiques, I lean into her and let her do her thing until the band's set ends. She spins on her heel, pressing those tiny tits into my chest.

“I’m Candy,” she preens.

“I bet you are, sweetness.”

“I said no, asshole,” a female voice shouts from behind me, drawing my attention away from Candy.

I can barely hear it over the crowd, but something about her tone keys me into the conversation. Something sobering. I search for where it’s coming from, but there are so many people. I peer over at Priest, who’s listening for it too. Yeah, he heard it. It’s not just booze fucking with my head. As we both scan the crowd, I hear it again.

“Get the fuck off me!” I close my eyes, zeroing in on the voice as hard as I can with the amount of alcohol in my system affecting my concentration. As I’m listening, a firm hand clasps my shoulder. I open my eyes to see Priest pointing off to our right.

“Looks like your friend needs saving.”

Every cell in my body sobers at the scene several rows back from us. There stands Cora in a heated argument with a fucking giant of a man in front of her. Dude must have a foot and a half on her. Her face is upturned with that defiant fucking sneer that’s grown on me over the last few days. Her hands are resting on her hips as she shouts at him, and he reaches out and grabs her arm, yanking her forward. The second he touches her, I take off toward them, with Priest hot on my heels.

I shove through a group blocking my way, ignoring their shit talk as I go. My focus is solely on getting to her and the hand I intend to break and display like a fucking trophy on my bike if it’s still on her when I get to them. Touching a woman after she says no, especially Cora, isn’t going to happen on my watch.

Neither of them sees me coming until I am already there, cocked and ready to lay his ass out. Priest tries to cut in front of me, but I throw out my arm, blocking him. “I got this.” Seeing the look on my face, Priest nods. Knowing he’s got my back, I continue on until I’m only inches away from the big bastard. I force myself between them, forcing him to release her, and pushing Cora behind me.

“I think the lady said no,” I drawl.

“This doesn’t involve you. If that fucking big bitch—”

My bare knuckles connect with his jaw, sending him flying back. “You done?”

“Fuck you!”

I barely get out a warning to Cora to back up before he barrels headfirst into my stomach. I reel from the impact, but drag up my elbow and land a few shots to the back of his head. The fucker just keeps going, shoving me closer and closer to the crowd behind me. I shift my weight, throwing him off balance, and take my shot. I throw a few uppercuts to his gut that land with a thud. He pushes away from me, clutching his stomach with his arm.

“Holy fuck, man. If she’s yours, put a fuckin’ patch on her.”

I’m ready to rip the motherfucker to shreds for simply being an asshole, when Priest and a few of the others come and stand next to me.

“Need some help?” Karma inquires, smirking.

Relaxing my stance, I take a step back. “I’ve got it under control.” Eyes still on the wannabe rapist, I jab my finger into his chest. “You so much as sniff in her fucking direction, it’ll be your last breath on this earth. Understood?”

I can feel the hate pouring off him in waves, but he bobs his head up and down in agreement. That’s not good enough, though. I want him to say it aloud. I want her to hear his words.

“Say it, asshole.”

“All right!” he shouts. “I won’t touch your fucking woman.”

My woman? Cora’s hardly my woman, but if that idea keeps her safe from this guy coming around again, he can believe whatever the fuck he wants. Guys like him make me fucking sick. I may be a player, but I would never fucking force a woman into my bed. Not against her will, and sure as fuck not if she says no.

“Allow me to take out the trash.” Grabbing the guy by the collar, Priest pulls him closer. Karma and StoneFace follow behind, the three of them moving the man toward the exit. I wait until they’re out of sight before turning to find Cora, who’s standing not too far from me, looking livid.

“I had it handled,” she snaps, her arms crossed against those big tits of hers, heaving up and down with her rapid breaths. “I didn’t need your help.”

“A simple thank you would suffice.”

“I’m not thanking you. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can.” I’d seen it for myself when she hauled that drunk out of the bar the other night. Shit, she’d impressed me with how well she handled herself. “But you shouldn’t fucking have to.”

She looks away.

“Show me your arm.” I step forward, but she takes a step back.

“I’m fine,” she says, her voice softer now. After a moment, she uncrosses her arms and shows me where he’d manhandled her. The red imprint of his hand is seared onto her skin. My eyes narrow, but she pulls away and folds her arms over her chest again, like it’s a protective instinct. “Seriously, I’m fine. He was just an asshole. It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

I don’t like that one bit, but it helps me understand exactly why she’s as tough as she is. Being a Sturgis local, she would have to know how to handle herself around handsy bikers. Bikers that give dudes like me a bad fucking rep.

“Are you here alone?”

“No. My friends are over at the bar, getting another round.”

That’s bullshit. Friends would’ve been here to help her. Not a single person around her stepped in to stop him until I did. No, she’s here alone.

“I want to believe you, but I think you’re lying to me.”

“Why would I lie to you?” she argues.

God, she’s stubborn. “I’ll wait until they come back.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It is if you don’t want something like that happening again.”

“Not likely,” she snorts. “The guy was clearly drunk, looking for what he thought was an easy lay.

“Nothing is easy about you, darlin’.”

“Seriously, TK, I’m fine. Go on back to your buddies.” She gazes over my shoulder. “Looks like your fan club is missing you.”

I follow her line of sight to Candy and her friend, glaring in our direction.

“They’re not important.”

I can tell she doesn’t like that, but she says nothing more. We stand in silence, with her watching the crowd and me watching her. Normally, her hair is up in a ponytail, but today, it’s hanging loose around her shoulders. I have to admit, I like it down. It’s very pretty.

“I’m gonna go find them,” she insists, looking uncomfortable just standing there.

Knowing there’s no point in arguing, I reach my hand out in front of her. “Give me your phone.”

“What? Why?” Her nose wrinkles in adorable confusion. Spying it sticking out of her pocket, I just reach out and take it. “Hey! What are you doing? Give that back!”

“I will when I’m done,” I tell her, peering down at the lock screen. Shit. “Unlock it.”

“No.”

I drop my head back and sigh. “Are you always this difficult? Just unlock your fucking phone, Cora.”

Growling, she snatches it from my hand and slides her finger across the screen before handing it back to me. I find her contacts and punch in my number, leaving her a bit of a surprise when she goes searching later, then hand it back to her.

“I put my number in your contacts. If that fucker shows back up, or if you need me for absolutely anything, you get hold of me right away. Text or call.”

“Why would I do that?”

I inch closer to her, just enough that I can hear her sharp intake of breath.

“Because you might be tough, sweetheart, but nobody should be fighting all these battles on their own.”