Tig had been leaning against the bar for all of five minutes before the noise started getting on his nerves.

Not the music.

Not the laughter.

Not even the drunk idiots stumbling around the clubhouse trying to act tougher than they were.

The thing getting under his skin was the fact that you had disappeared into the crowd ten minutes ago and he hadn’t seen you since.

Normally, he wouldn’t worry.

You were Jax Teller’s little sister and Tig’s ol lady. Between the two of them, people in Charming knew exactly who you were.

More importantly, they knew better than to mess with you.

Or at least they should have.

Tig took a sip of his beer, scanning the room when movement near the opposite end of the bar caught his eye.

You were standing there, waiting for the bartender, looking completely unbothered.

The guy next to you, however, was another story.

Tig watched the stranger lean closer.

You didn’t even look at him.

The man said something.

You ignored him.

Tig smirked.

The stranger clearly mistook your silence for interest because he moved even closer.

A few members nearby noticed.

Happy stopped mid-conversation.

Chibs glanced over.

Even Juice winced.

Everyone knew how this was about to end except the idiot currently living it.

The guy said something else, trying to get your attention.

You finally looked at him.

Just once.

A cold, unimpressed stare.

The kind that should’ve made any reasonable person walk away immediately.

Instead, he grinned.

Tig sighed.

“Here we go.”

The man reached out.

And made the biggest mistake of his life.

His hand landed on your ass.

The entire room seemed to freeze.

For one second.

One.

Then you moved.

Fast.

Your hand shot up, grabbing the back of his neck before he could even react.

His eyes widened.

CRACK.

His face smashed into the bar hard enough to splinter the edge.

Blood exploded from his nose.

The stranger screamed.

Or tried to.

You didn’t give him the chance.

The moment he stumbled backward, you hooked a foot behind his leg and sent him crashing to the floor.

Drinks rattled.

People jumped back.

The music suddenly seemed a lot quieter.

The guy groaned, trying to push himself up.

Bad idea.

You grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back, and planted your boot squarely between his shoulder blades.

The man immediately cried out in pain.

“Touch me again,” you said, your voice calm enough to make everyone nervous, “and I break every bone in your body.”

The clubhouse went silent.

A few prospects looked terrified.

Happy looked impressed.

Chibs was trying—and failing—not to laugh.

The stranger froze completely.

Blood dripped from his ruined nose onto the floor.

You applied a little more pressure.

He yelped.

“Do you understand me?”

“Y-yeah!”

“Louder.”

“YES!”

Only then did you release him.

The guy scrambled backward like a wounded animal.

Nobody helped him.

Nobody felt sorry for him.

Because everyone in the room knew exactly what had happened.

The idiot got what he earned.

Tig finally pushed away from the bar and made his way over.

The crowd parted instantly.

The stranger saw the patched reaper on Tig’s kutte and looked like he was reconsidering every decision he’d made that night.

Tig glanced at the man.

Then at you.

Then at the blood on the floor.

A grin spread across his face.

“Baby,” he said proudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “I think that might be the fastest you’ve ever broken somebody.”

You shrugged.

“He touched me.”

“Fair point.”

The stranger hurried to his feet.

Tig’s smile vanished instantly.

The room got colder.

“Run.”

The guy didn’t hesitate.

He practically sprinted for the door.

The second it slammed shut behind him, laughter erupted throughout the clubhouse.

Happy was the first one clapping.

Chibs shook his head.

“Poor bastard never stood a chance.”

“Nope,” Tig agreed, pulling you closer against his side.

Then he pressed a kiss against your temple and looked around the room.

“Anybody else feeling handsy tonight?”

The silence that followed was immediate.

Tig grinned

“Didn’t think so.”