17
Channing
My jaw could cut steel.
I was goddamn pissed.
Here was Richter, four of his crew behind him. Their Harleys were in my town, and I wanted to pummel his face into the ground. Instead, I asked a question—with a definite chill to my tone.
“You think you can roll up on me and my girl?” I took a step closer. “When I’m with my girl?”
His guys were already standing at attention. That was my first clue Richter was here to mess with me. But at my snap-back, they got into a fighting stance.
The rage stormed in me, thundering loud, and I was tempted to wade in—caution be damned. Heather and my time with Heather were off-limits. That’s a lesson I thought he’d learned long ago. It seemed a reminder session was due.
“Whoa, Monroe.”
I caught the flash of wariness in his eyes before he
