Haunt (Bayonet Scars #6)

I try to keep a stiff upper lip and not show my hurt at the memory.

“This is the life. Brothers do what they’re gonna do, and old ladies turn the other cheek.”

“Yeah,” he says and waves me over. He opens his arms and wraps me in an awkward hug. My belly gets in the way of everything these days. I’ve known Rig for years now. This isn’t the first hug he’s ever given me, but it is the first one since I became an old lady. I’m not to be touched and we both know this. The only man who’s allowed to touch me, unless it’s for my safety, is my old man. Nobody would give a shit if my dad hugged me, but a patched brother putting his hands on another brother’s old lady is a no-no. The only thing worse would be if a stranger did it, but this is Rig—it’s not like that between us.

“Those rules are bullshit. We tell our women to turn the other cheek, but you bitches never listen. I ain’t gonna rat you out, but I didn’t see you either,” he says.

I pull back from our hug, but he holds me tight to his body. His hands start to move and rub my back in a slow, circular motion. This doesn’t feel okay anymore. I feel his head dip and his nose brush against the top of my head as he sucks a deep breath in. I don’t want him touching me or breathing me in or anything. Rig’s my old man’s president, so I can’t just push him away. I mean, I probably could, but the prospect scares me for some reason. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something in the way Rig’s holding me that sets off my warning bells.

“Man, found your girl wandering around alone,” Rig says as he clears his throat. My hands fall to my sides immediately. He releases me, and I step back and swing around as quickly as I can with my burgeoning belly.

Wyatt stands halfway down the hall with his arms folded over his chest. His glare is icy, and even from here I can see how tense he is. My man is hot as hell. He’s always been hot, but the more he works out and the bigger his muscles get, the sexier he is to me. His short dark-brown hair is mussed, his broad shoulders heave, and his incredible jaw is locked in place. My hormones are so out of control that I actually have to remind myself that I’m mad at him.

“Good thing you found her, boss.” Wyatt is responding to Rig, but he’s looking at me. His words are clipped. There’s so much anger emanating from him that it’s starting to freak me out.

I’m angry.

He’s cheating on me.

No. He’s cheating on us.

My hand finds its way to my belly in a protective manner. Wyatt won’t hit me, but this situation has my hair standing on end. I don’t like my baby being in the middle of this, but since he goes where I go, I don’t have a choice.

“If you’re busy, I can take her home,” Rig says. Wyatt’s body jerks at his president’s words, and he storms down the hall toward us. I make the mistake of taking a step backward—a move my man doesn’t miss—giving him the wrong impression. In a second, he’s on me, his hand hooked around the back of my neck, and pulls me into his side. It’s not loving like I want him to be. He radiates anger and hate in a way I’ve never felt from him before. We’ve had our fights, and they get heated, but this is different.

“You wear that patch, so I’ll give you the respect it calls for,” Wyatt says as he shoves a finger at Rig’s president patch. “But you’ve been put on notice. This woman belongs to me. The next time you touch her, I’ll rip your fucking arm off and fuck your mother with it.”

Rig smirks and places his hands on his hips like he’s enjoying this. When he finally talks, I’m wishing he’d just kept his mouth shut. “Your woman came to me, son. She’s lonely and looking for something you’re obviously not giving her. You want to fuck someone, maybe you should try fucking your girl so she’s not up on my dick.”

With the flip of his wrist, Wyatt sends me for the wall behind me. My shoulders and head hit the exposed brick at the same time. I lose my vision for just a moment, but it’s long enough for Wyatt to jump Rig and the two men to have each other locked in death grips with their noses shoved together.

“Wyatt, baby, he’s lying,” I say. My head throbs and my shoulders ache, but I have to tell Wyatt the truth. I don’t know what game Rig’s playing at, but he’s full of shit. I’m not up on his dick, nor have I ever been. “Calm down. Don’t do this.”

If someone else was here, Wyatt would probably be in the clear because Rig fucking taunted him. But we’re alone, and it’s the president’s word versus a non-office-holding brother and his old lady, and our relationship isn’t exactly picture-perfect right now. Wyatt won’t lose his patch over this, but it won’t end well for him either.

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