Chapter 21: Tirone: Chapter 22

My trump card. I saved the best for last. She had to know he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth her guilt or sacrifice. He didn’t deserve her or her heart.

It’s all a lie, Jo. He doesn’t love you, baby. He never loved anyone but himself. But I do. I’ll always love you. I’ll always protect and care for you. I’ll always save you.

She was crying, asking infinite, useless questions he wouldn’t answer. “Answer me. How long have you known my mother? How long have you known I was her daughter? When you were at San Quentin, did you know I was her daughter?”

He was speechless. What could he say? That he was only attracted to my girl because she reminded him of some pussy he tapped and thought he could stick his dick in a younger version of?

“Of course you did.” She sniffled. “You’ve been lying to me…all this time… I’m such an idiot.”

“I love you, Jo. You. Your mother has nothing to do with how I feel about you.”

“Then why did you not tell me you knew her? Why did you have to hide it if it was nothing? I’ll answer for you. Because it’s everything.” Crying, she spun to leave, but he caught her wrist. My hand itched for the knife I had in my sock. Chopping his hand off my girl would feel very satisfying.

She yanked her wrist out of his grip. “Don’t touch me.” She backed away. “And don’t come after me.”

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he yelled after her, following, as she stormed away. “You have to listen to me.”

I swooped down on him with a roar. “She said don’t go after her!”

He pushed me off him with all his strength. I fell on my back, crashing against the broken glass and wood. Fuck, he was strong. “You will shut that fucking mouth of yours and get your shit together because I won’t let anyone, not even you, come between me and Jo ever again. I don’t give a shit what you think of me or what you think happened between me and your mother. Whatever damage she sent you to do here, I won’t allow it. Jo is mine. I don’t give a fuck if you’re okay with it. She’s mine until the day I die, and you’d better deal with it and stop sabotaging what we have if you want to stay under my roof.”

“Laius, stop it!” she yelled. “Stop hurting him. Your ex didn’t send your son to sabotage us. You just did.” She whirled toward the hallway, and he stalked after her again.

I jumped to my feet and grabbed him from his cut. “You’re not going after her. I warned you if anything happened to her because of you, I’d fucking kill you. I won’t let you make her hurt herself again because you won’t listen. The last time she crashed into a gate. What do you want to happen to her next? Kill her fucking self?”

With a growl, he pushed me against the wall. Then his forearm, pressing against my throat, pinned me to the wall. “I said shut the fuck up. What I do with my ol’ lady is none of your fucking business.”

That’s it. I’m done with his shit. I kicked him in the shin. That loosened his forearm off me and allowed me to bend and grab my knife.

“Prez, look out!” Molar shouted, running our way.

Furore’s eyes widened incredulously as he glimpsed the blade. He swore, waving his fist at me. Suddenly, there was a hand on my wrist, twisting it. It took me a second to register it wasn’t Molar’s or Furore’s. It was quick and small and soft. It was Jo’s.

With a skill that took me by surprise, she hit my hand she was twisting with her knee over and over until she forced me to drop the knife.

“NO!” she screamed, now holding my knife. “Enough! Enough!” she repeated hysterically.

I’d become aware of my surroundings and the damage I’d caused to the house when I’d heard her voice as she first came in, but watching her like this, torn and screaming, that what snapped me out of the episode, bringing me face to face to what I’d done. To her. I didn’t care about the damages to the house, to the Night Skulls and their president, even though, as one of them, I should have. But I only cared about her. Hurting her was one of the worst things that could ever happen to me. Even when I had to do it, it cut through me with a blunt blade.

“Okay.” Furore dropped his arms and took a step away from me, everybody staring at her, alarmed, including me. He stepped toward her, but she put a hand up between them. He stopped in his tracks. “Okay, baby. Just drop the knife and calm down.”

Tears streamed down her face. “I won’t until I’m out of here and you promise you’re not going to come after me.”

“I won’t let you anywhere away from me,” he fucking said.

“I’m not staying here, Laius. Not after what I’ve known. Not after what I’ve seen. I’m not going to watch a father and son kill each other.” She broke into hysterics. Fuck, I couldn’t just watch her fall apart.

“Jo—

“Silence!” she interrupted me, shaking the knife vigorously. “You don’t get to speak after this.”

“Jo, baby, just calm down, all right?” he said. “I know you’re upset, and you need some time. Fine. You stay. I’ll go.” Then he growled at me. “You’re fucking coming with me.”

“No,” she said. “The two of you are not going to be anywhere near each other any time soon. I’m leaving the compound…and Tirone is coming with me until you both stop being so fucking toxic to each other.”

Yes, my little faerie. That’s how it should be.

“The fuck you are. There’s no way in hell I’m gonna let him near you.” He glared at me. “Probably never.”

“Fuck you,” I spat. “She’s not a club mama. She’s not your fucking property to tell her what to do. She has a brain of her own, and she can think for herself.”

“Fort!” she yelled for him before Furore’s clenched fist lifted to my face. “Fort!”

He came in, shitfaced, glass shattering harder under the crunch of his weight.

“You’re coming with us,” she told him like a boss. Then she glanced at Furore. “Not that I’m afraid of Ty, but Fort will be there to look out for me just like when you were in prison. You have no excuse.” She held my hand, tilting her chin up, and walked us out of the lounge. The only sounds that accompanied us were our breaths and footsteps, Fort’s and the clinking of the knife she dropped on the floor as we exited through the front door.

Take that, Furore. Who’s Prez now?