Page 150 of Reaper's Claim

“You have the cheek to come here after what you did. If you think you and your mutt of a family will get away with this, you’re wrong.”

“Again, WHAT THE FUCK!” I shoved her back. I had no idea what she was talking about, and I really wasn’t in the fucking mood to play a guessing game with her.

“You know what, you stupid club whore!” Fury covered her face, her sharp eyes wanting blood.

Brad’s arm whipped up between us, and he gently held me back.

“Back the fuck off.” Brad stepped in. He wasn’t the gentle, laughable, or friendly Brad right now. His facial expression was hard, his voice dripping with controlled rage.

“Yeah, get someone else to fight your fight. What a surprise,” Vivien snapped, seeming not fussed that Brad was standing there looking like a foaming bulldog ready to bite.

“If you’ve got something to say, spit it out, bitch.” I felt my control over my rage for her boiling over.

“Like you don’t know! Like you have no idea that Sebastian is in here beaten nearly to death because you went and told your father.”

I hadn’t told Dad anything; the less the club knew about their business, the better. But right now she was digging her own grave.

“That’s not on us.”

“As if.”

“Believe it or not Vivien, but I’m sure Sebastian has pissed off more people than just me.”

“Vivien,” An older man in a business suit stood behind her, likely her father.

“You must be one of the Harrison sisters.” He stood at his daughter’s side, forcing a false polite tone.

“Your daughter needs to back the fuck off.” I looked him directly in the eye. I wasn’t scared of him, and he couldn’t intimidate me, especially with the beast standing beside me.

His face clenched, and he took a dominating step forward. “Just let it be known that the Westbrooks don’t back down from a fight. What you did tonight, little girl, will cause a chain of reaction that your tiny whore mind couldn’t possibly wrap around.”

How fucking dare he.

I opened my mouth but was pushed back behind Brad before I could say anything.

“You’re threatening the wrong girl.”

The man laughed sharply. “The threat wasn’t limited to her. It was directed at the lot of you bottom feeders. Now if you’ll excuse us, I have a son to see.”

Brad didn’t say anything. Instead, he let the awful bad-mouthing man walk around us. Vivien made sure to give me a smug expression before following.

Grinding my teeth, I stepped up my pace, heading back in Dad’s direction.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, Abby.” Brad glanced down at me, his eyes still holding anger.

Thanks to Vivien.

“If I said it was nothing, would you believe me?” I looked back up at him.

“No.”

“If I said I was handling it, would you believe me?”

We paused at the waiting room door before entering.

“You don’t need to be handling shit. That’s why you have us. So if you’ve got something, Abby, you bring it to us. Not fucking go behind our back playing Robin Hood.”

Rolling my eyes, I pushed the waiting room door open, ending that conversation.