Page 4 of Stolen Bride
“Don’t remind me.” We leave in the early morning hours, and I head over to my parents’ estate because I want to speak with my sister when she wakes, so it’s best that I just stay the night. My head hits the pillow in my old bedroom where I easily pass out for my normal five hours.
****
I’m at my parents’ home waiting for my sister to speak to me, but she’s staring at her food like she’s ready to kill her bacon all over again. “It’s already dead.”
“Pity. Just like my dating life. Don’t you have someone else’s life to ruin?”
“Not yet. Not until I straighten some shit out with you.”
“There’s nothing to straighten out. You told me that I could come to your club and you wouldn’t ruin my night, but you did anyway. I could have gone anywhere else and had a great time for my birthday.”
“Look at me, Hummingbird. I didn’t fuck up your night. Your little slut friend did that.”
“What does this have to do with Camille? Just because she hit on you? Come on—like women don’t try to hit on you.”
“It wasn’t that. I caught her in the bathroom with one of the guys, violating my club rules.”
“What?”
“Yes. I was livid. People were talking about how the club operates.”
“So why did I have to go?”
“Everyone saw you together. If anyone said a damn thing about you, I would have slit throats that night.”
“Maybe I should stay away from your club.”
“You know damn well Dad will not allow you to go anywhere else. I just don’t want that whore with you.”
“Understood.”
“I’m sorry, Hummingbird. Don’t take it out on Gabe. He was just protecting you.”
“Protecting me? He was snarling at every single man that approached me.”
“Exactly. You have no idea how many times I considered killing all of them last night. You’re my baby sister, and those perverts only want you for one thing.”
“Because I’m only worth that?”
“No, but they don’t know you. All they see is a beautiful woman who was half-naked and shaking her ass all over.”
“You have problems.” She rolls her eyes.
“And?”
“How do you think people meet?”
“I don’t know. I have no intention of having a wife or a family, so it doesn’t matter to me.”
“Again, Dame, you have problems.”
“I love my life, Hummingbird. I just want someone who is worthy of you, but you’re not going to find that hanging around with trash like Camille Jones.”
“Fine, but she’s not that easy to shake,” Grace says, taking a drink of her orange juice.
“I could take care of her.” It’s an offer that I wouldn’t normally make when it comes to a female, but this one is already proving to be trouble within my club and with my family.
“No. She might be promiscuous, but that doesn’t mean she deserves to be buried.” I suppose I may be overreacting, but I have my standards.