Page 117 of Iron

“Fuckin’ fine,” I answered trying not to take my anger out on him.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but—”

“You’re right, I don’t. I probably already know it anyway.”

He laughed under his breath.

“She was a little bit right,” he said.

I nodded, staring blankly ahead.

“She was a little bit right,” I parroted. “But seein’ her like that, scared the fuck out of me. All that blood and not knowing if she was okay, wasn’t something I could handle. What if it didn’t go the way she planned. Those fuckers were carryin’ guns. They could have shot her.”

“I get where you’re coming from, but you can’t look at it that way. She knew she could handle it. And if you try to take that away from her, then you are asking her to change who she is.”

I cut my eyes over to him.

“When the fuck did you get so wise?” Though I was trying to joke, it came out a little rough.

“I learn from the best,” he said with a wide smile as he clapped me on the shoulder.

“I’m still pissed,” I said.

“Yeah, I got that much.”

“Did you tell Bridget what you were headin’ out to do?” I asked with a raised brow.

“I’m going to stop you right there,” he said shaking his head. “Bridget isn’t Petra. Bridget loves me and the club, but she doesn’t want to know what goes on. I don’t think she’s afraid of knowing as much as it’s for our protection. If she doesn’t know anything, then if anyone started asking questions she can play dumb without having to lie.”

Yeah, that made sense. I could see how that would be her way of thinking.

“That said,” he went on. “Petra isn’t Bridget. Petra has both feet and her whole body in our world. She’s seen shit. Fuck, she’s done shit. She’s not the type of woman that you can keep in the dark.”

“Club business,” I mumbled as a lame excuse.

“We all know that is a macho way of protecting our significant others. But that’s the thing with Petra, she doesn’t need to be protected.”

I blew out a harsh breath as I opened the energy drink he got me. I quickly sucked it down seeing that everyone was about ready to ride out.

“Thanks, brother,” I said as I tossed the can into the trash. I clapped him on the shoulder then mounted my bike.

Once we were in town, I broke off with a toss of my hand. I didn’t need to explain where I was going, they all saw that shit go down and they knew.

I found Petra alone in her penthouse sitting on the couch. She had showered and put on a new outfit. I sensed that she hadn’t left since she returned and I internally shook my head as I scanned her from head to toe. She was perfectly made up, right down to those uncomfortable looking heels.

“Get up,” I told her.

She did so slowly as her defiant chin jutted out.

“Walk,” I ordered as I pointed down the hall.

Pissed and scared were strong emotions on their own, but together, they had my head spinning.

And I knew I was about to do something I’d never done before.

Inside the room, I urged her down over the bench. I wasted no time cuffing her wrists but I left her legs free.

With angry steps, I walked over to the cabinet in the wall. My hands snatched up the black rubber paddle with raised lines all over it. I wasn’t sure why I picked that particular one. Especially when there were less threatening looking ones beside it. I think there was something about it that reminded me of the brush that I had at home. The one I often combed her hair with.