The Biker's Fate Chapter 432

"Not if we let him keep goin' at your face like that," Flea chimed in.

"Remington said you attacked her, and I believe her. If you didn't get the message before, you're gonna get it now, you son of a bitch," I said, loading up my rapidly swelling right hand.

"Easy, Finch," Hatch said. "Let's avoid too many head shots. I think Vitaly's got the point that we're serious. Don't you Vitaly?"

He nodded, blood streaming down his neck.

"Good. Because we want you on the first available flight to Moscow."

"Bullshit," Vitaly spit out.

"You're either going to the airport in the morning, or to the cops to admit what you did to Remington," Hatch said in a tone that was void of negotiation.

"I'm not leaving the United States! You will never get away with this. I am guest in your country. I am here to share my talents as the premier ballet dancer of Russia, and I will not be intimidated. Your government has assured my safety as an ambassador."

"You feel safe right now?" Flea asked.

"What are you going to do? Kill me? I don't think so. Too much "heat" as you say. You want to keep beating me up? That will look pretty suspicious to the authorities wouldn't you say?"

"He's right," I said. "It's his word against Remi's, and his family is too connected within the dance world for them to ever side with her. Cut him loose."

"What the fuck?" Hatch asked.

"What can we do? As long as he's in the US as a sponsored artist, he's too high-profile for us to be fucking with. The club's safety has to come first. Remi's career with the Conservatory is over anyway, and the cops don't believe her, so just let him go."

Hatch looked stunned, as did Vitaly. "Finch, I don't know what the fuck you're think—"

"Goddammit, Hatch, just cut him loose."

Hatch looked at me with fire in his eyes but trusted me enough to cut Vitaly's restraints. Once they were cut, Vitaly quickly rose to his feet, and put his hand to his head wound. "You're gonna pay for this," he said.

"Just get the fuck out," I said, backing up.

Vitaly smirked and slowly walked toward the door which he'd almost reached before I smashed his knee with a three-foot piece of galvanized pipe I'd grabbed from the corner. I felt his leg snap in two like a chicken bone, and Vitaly dropped to the ground like a stone.

"Oh, shit," I said. "That sounded like a career-ending injury to me. Did you guys hear that?"

"Jesus, Finch. What the fuck did you just do?" Hatch asked.

"You said not to hit him in the face," I replied.

"How the fuck is this not going to bring attention on us?" Hatch yelled.

"You said we needed to give him a reason to go back to Moscow. Well, here it is. If he can't dance, then he has no fucking reason to be here. Problem solved."

"Hey, this guy's goin' into shock," Flea called out.

"Fuck him," I said, taken aback by my own words, not to mention my actions. However, something inside of me snapped when he'd called Remington a whore and threatened her. I knew as long as this guy had a reason to be around her, he'd use it to his advantage, so I had to make sure he'd never dance again.

"I'm callin' Katie," Flea said.

I rolled my eyes. Katie was Flea's sister and a registered nurse. The amount of folks she'd stitched up on the downlow was probably in the hundreds by now, which is why we called her. She was discreet and genuinely cared about every one of us…and she was the last person I wanted 'treating' Vitaly. "Leave the piece of shit to rot."

Hatch approached me slowly. Like a lion tamer approaching an out of control cat. "Finch."

"What?" I seethed as I stared at Vitaly, now passed out on the ground.

"Brother."

"What?"

"Merrick, look at me."

I turned my focus onto Hatch and he raised an eyebrow.

"What?" I repeated.

He settled his hands on my shoulders and shook his head. "You got somethin' you need to tell me?"

"Like?"

"Like, why you're freakin' over a woman you don't know."

"I know her."

"Yeah, I'm pickin' up on that." He patted my shoulders as he sighed. "You need to get gone. We'll clean this up."

"Don't really feel finished."

"As your superior, I'm tellin' you that you are."

"Technically—"

"You get the fuck outta here or you and I are gonna have a conversation that you will find painful. Don't make me deal with you in an official capacity, pup. You and your shiny new patch won't like it."

I bit back a retort. It would land on deaf ears, and since Hatch was an officer of my club, he had seniority. Plus, he was like my second dad. I respected him, and it wasn't him I had a beef with. So, I lowered my head and stepped back.

Flea closed the distance between us. "You got time to pick Grace up from class?" He nodded over his shoulder. "Gonna be a while."

"Didn't she drive?"

"She did, but I had Cheese pick her car up, so I could drive her home."

Made sense. Flea was overprotective like that. "Yeah, brother," I said.

"Thanks, man."

I nodded and headed to my truck. When I'd left my condo earlier, it had been too wet to ride, so I'd taken my pickup, but now it was sunny and dry, and I cursed the Portland weather.

Fuck, I wanted to ride.