“See, we’re back here in one piece,” Bishop said.

Attitude dripped from his voice, and she winced. This wasn’t the best way to try to win over his father.

Clearly, Preacher was pissed.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re speaking to, kid?” Preacher stepped up close.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“That’s right. I’m your fucking lord and master, and you think I’ve got time to deal with the useless pranks you pull. One of these days, junior, you’re going to realize I’m not going to help you. You’re going to push one step too far. Did you know your principal wanted to report you for kidnapping?” Preacher looked past him at her, and she stayed perfectly still.

“Principal asshole doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s had it in for me from the start. You can’t trust him. He’s—”

Preacher grabbed Bishop’s face and spun him around to look at her. “What am I fucking seeing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Look closely.”

She wanted to run.

She looked over at her father, and Bear was clearly pissed as well.

Preacher thrust his son away from him and stalked toward her, grabbing her arm but being sure not to do where there might be glass.

“What is this?”

“She got hurt. It’s no big deal, right, Robin?”

“Get in my car, Robin, now!” Preacher growled each word out, and there was no way she was going to disobey him. She walked over to his car slowly, glancing back to see Preacher slap his son around the back of the head.

“You’ve got to learn to think. You’re so fucking tough, but you can’t even help someone. She’s your friend. You disgust me. Get to your room, now. You even think of leaving and I’ll cut your dick off and shove it up your ass.”

Preacher shoved Bishop away from him, and she watched her friend as he walked past her father, who proceeded to grab him by the ear and march him back into the clubhouse.

Quickly climbing into Preacher’s passenger side, she stared at her arm. The pain was still there. It hadn’t been numbed or anything. She very much felt what was happening.

Humming to herself, she waited, and the moment the car door opened, she shut up.

He got behind the wheel, turning the ignition over, and pulled out of the parking lot, while dialing someone on his cell phone.

“I need the doc back at my place. Twenty minutes tops.” He didn’t wait for any confirmation, simply hung up his cell phone and headed toward his home.

She’d been to Preacher’s house many times.

Growing up, she’d had a lot of sleepovers with Bishop. They’d been close friends in the crib, so there was no reason not to extend their friendship.

“Does it hurt?”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not what I asked. Answer my question.”

“It does hurt. I’d give it a seven.”

“It’s bleeding through your shirt. You should have told him to take you home.”

“Bishop wouldn’t have listened to me. You know how he gets.”