Love's Choice Read Online Free Page B

were big men, one with a sawed-off shotgun slung over his shoulder.
    “Maybe,” Griff said. “If you give us a reason not to make this into a war.”
    “A war?” I snorted. “Over what?”
    “You fucking walked into our bar and decked me in the face,” Talon snarled, climbing off his bike and taking two steps towards me. I eyed the man, not showing the fear that was telling me to run. Wolves didn't run. We went straight for the throat.
    I laughed instead. “You want to spill blood over this?” I asked Griff. “Your man was mistreating a lady. He was 'bout to take her upstairs, unwillingly, and bring all kinds of heat down on your club.”
    Griff glanced back at Talon. “What the fuck is he talking 'bout?”
    Talon shrugged. “Just some skank that was lookin' to get taken hard. Then that fucker walked right into our bar and pissed all over us. He punched me in the face and ran off with her.”
    “Yeah, she looked real eager to get taken hard,” I snorted. “That's why she clawed your face up. Pretty White woman's car breaks down, she walks into your bar to call for a tow, and your fucking vice president decides he can just take her. You would have had the sheriffs all over your bar and club. The way I see it, you owe me for saving your fucking asses.”
    Griff ground his teeth. “You still walked into our bar.”
    “And?” I asked. “It's not my fault if your vice president has so little control over your territory he couldn't keep me out.”
    “I'll fuckin' rip your guts out,” Talon snarled, pulling out a knife. It was long and sharp, the type of blade designed for a fight.
    Things grew tense. Jim came up alongside me, shotgun pointed, while Big Hoss produced the long-barreled .50 revolver he loved. Griff's men pointed their weapons back. I faced them down. No fear. No weakness.
    “You want to go to war over this?” I demanded of Griff. “You want blood spilled because Talon can only think with his tiny dick?”
    “It's fuckin' bigger than yours,” roared Talon, taking a step forward.
    “Shut the fuck up,” Griff roared. “And put those fucking weapons away. This is a goddamn meeting not a fuckin' battle.” 
    “But—” Talon began.
    “Now!”
    Griff's words echoed through the field. Two of the Blood Eagles put away their weapons. I motioned to my guys, and they, reluctantly, holstered their guns. Griff rounded on Talon and the biker grimaced and sheathed his knife.
    “Why don't we just settle up right now,” I said. “I punched your man and he dropped like a sack of shit. I'll give him first crack right now.”
    “Yeah,” Talon grinned. “Let me break his pretty face.”
    Griff arched his eyebrows. “He gets the first punch?”
    “Yep.”
    “I'll fuckin' crack your head open,” Talon grinned.
    “Lot of talk,” I answered, pulling off my vest and tossing it to Big Hoss. Then I unstrapped the shoulder harness for my pistol and handed over my gun. I flexed my muscular arms and loosened my neck as Talon strolled forward. “You ready?”
    A grin split Talon's lips, showing rotten teeth. “Yep.”
    Talon hit me. Hard.
    I stumbled back. My head rang. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts, and spat out blood. I probed my teeth with my tongue. None were loose. My jaw ached, but I forced myself to grin. “You call that a punch? I'd say you're a woman, but I've been hit harder by a woman than that.”
    Talon's face went red and his thick beard bristled. He roared forward and threw a wild punch. Too wild. He shifted his weight all the way back before punching, telegraphing his swing. I ducked it and jabbed. He grunted as my fist hit his stomach.
    Talon's swings were hard, brutal. I ducked and weaved. He growled as he attacked. I moved back, watching him. He was a boxer. He wanted to hit hard and finish me. A powerful haymaker came at my face. I twisted and grabbed his wrist. Talon grunted as I flipped him over my hip. He landed with a wheezing grunt. I kicked him in the