Slay (Storm MC #4)

“How far away from the bar are you?” Her tone put me on high alert.

“About fifteen minutes. Why?” I went in search of Mum while Layla kept talking.

“Marcus is here, and it’s not pretty between him and Sharon. I’m concerned.”

Fuck.

“I’m on my way, but until I get there, I’ve got some guys watching your bar so I’ll send them in to watch him.”

“Thanks,” she said, ending the call.

I found Mum in the kitchen. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you later and check in.”

She nodded and gave me a hug. “Love you, baby,” she said as she let me go.

“Love you, too,” I said and headed out to the car. Layla’s voice over the phone had told me everything I needed to know. Marcus was going to be a problem, and I needed to get there as fast as I could.

On the way, I called Scott and asked him to get over there as soon as possible. Better to have both of us there to deal with Marcus.

The traffic was a bitch and it took me longer to get there than I thought it would. By the time I parked the Jag, my head felt like it would explode from the anxiety tearing through me. Worry about Layla getting hurt filled me, and I bolted out of the car and into the bar.

Thank fuck three o’clock was a quiet time for the place. Layla stood at the bar serving the one customer she currently had. Sharon and Marcus were nowhere to be seen. I walked to her and raised my eyebrows in question.

After she finished with her customer, she pointed towards the back of the bar. “They’re outside in the back alley. Marcus has had a bit to drink, Donovan. When he started getting angry with her, she took him outside. Your guys followed them, so, hopefully, that means she’s okay.” Her worry was clear, but I was simply glad she hadn’t been hurt.

“I’ll go see what’s going on. You stay here, yeah? Don’t come out there, because if Marcus hurts you, he won’t be leaving here in anything but a fucking body bag,” I said, and, at her nod, I left to go out to the alley.

Angry voices filtered through as I pushed the back door open. I took a step outside and came face to face with Sharon yelling at Marcus. “I should never have married you! You couldn’t keep your dick to yourself before we got married, and you still can’t keep it to yourself. If you thought I didn’t know about your new piece on the side, you’re a fucking idiot. She’s welcome to you.”

No fucking surprise there.

Marcus took a step closer to her, anger rolling off him. “She means fucking nothing to me, babe. None of them have.” His gaze flicked to me, and, while staring at me, he added, “Not even Stella.”

Blood roared in my ears, and I clenched my fists. As the craving for his blood threatened to take over, I forced myself to remember Storm needed him alive. Killing him would only cause them more problems, and that could possibly have an impact on Madison.

Fuck.

Sharon slapped him. “You think that makes it okay, asshole? You’re a fucking pig to women.”

He grabbed her hand, pulling her to him. “You think you can walk away from me that easily? Fucking try it and see what happens,” he threatened her.

My guys had been hanging back but they both took a step forward. I held up my hand to halt them and walked toward Marcus. “Let her go,” I demanded.

Training his filthy gaze on me, he snarled, “This is between me and my wife, Blade, so you can fuck off and leave us to sort it out ourselves.”

I kept walking. “No way am I leaving, and there’s no fucking way you’re beating your wife up again.”

He shoved her away and came at me. His fist tried to connect with my face, but I blocked it and punched him in the gut. As he stumbled, I punched him hard in the face. Bone crunched and blood spurted. My demons roared to life at the sight of that blood, and in that instant, I succumbed to the darkness. I let it pull me under and take over my soul.

My father was as good as dead.

For every punch I got in, I recalled a childhood hurt.

For every punch he got in, I remembered why his time was up.

My father would never hurt another human being again.

Every emotion I’d experienced at my father’s hands bubbled up as I kept punching. Blindly, madly punching. I was a crazed man. My father had made me this way, and this was his reckoning.

His sins were finally coming back to haunt him.

I blocked out the world as I fought to end his life, so it wasn’t until strong hands pulled me off him that I heard someone yelling out my name.

Scott.

“Blade! Fuck, don’t kill him,” he thundered, while fighting to pull me away.

I tried to punch Scott so he’d let me go, but he’d anticipated that and punched me first.

Motherfucker.

The pain roared through me, but I breathed through it, raising my arm to take aim again. However, another set of arms grabbed me.