“I didn’t even say anything.”
“Didn’t have to.” He stops at the deck, just feet from the front door. I have to back up a step to keep from literally stepping on his toes. “You get away with a lot with me because of shit you don’t even understand. I’ll tolerate whatever crap you want to throw my way as long as you remember your place with the club and with my brother.”
“I don’t understand.” I feel like I’ve been dropped into the conversation halfway through because I’m pretty much lost now.
“He likes you,” is his blunt explanation. When my eyebrows pull together in confusion he shakes his head and purses his lips like he’s thinking about what he wants to say. “More than likes you. Don’t take it for granted and don’t fuck it up. He chose you and I respect that, but make no mistake about it, babe. You do him dirty and you’ll answer to me.” I narrow my eyes and he leans in closer. His rank breath washes over my face.
“I won’t hesitate to slit your fucking throat if you fuck my brother over.”
I tilt my chin up, closer to his ear and lean in so we’re chest to chest. He’s taller than me by several inches, but I don’t care. He’s going to hear what I have to say and that’s all that matters.
“Threatening somebody with death only works if they’re afraid of dying.” I say the words slowly and with purpose, meaning every single one. If he wanted to scare me, he should have threatened to take away something that matters to me—like Ian.