The Anti-Hero (The Goode Brothers, #1)(17)

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

I’m chasing after Adam, calling his name, trying to get a grip on his arm to keep him from doing anything crazy, but

there’s no stopping him.

And the neon lights at the end of the hall loom like an omen—VIP.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He barrels past the spot where a security guard should be, slipping right through the black curtain that separates the general population from the exclusive section of the club. It’s louder and darker in there, but there’s no missing the man in the booth on the other side of the room with his face buried between the legs of the woman on the table.

Adam is practically running toward him, and I can do nothing but watch and wince as he grabs the man by the collar of his shirt and tosses him out of the booth. The woman screams and the VIP room erupts in chaos.

Where the fuck are the bouncers?

My hands cover my face as Adam drags his father off the floor by his shirt and rears back his fist. There’s a look of such hatred and anger on Adam’s face as he hesitates with his arm cocked and ready to fly.

But he never sends his fist coursing toward his father’s face. Instead, he stares at him with raw emotion and pain etched into his features. It’s almost like he’s frozen in place, some sort of internal voice stopping him from doing what he so clearly wants to.

“You…”

His words hang in the air, uttered through an expression of pure hatred.

Finally, finally, the six-foot-three bouncer grabs Adam by the arm and hauls him away from Truett. I turn to find Brett and two other bouncers rushing into the room.

“What the fuck is going on?” Brett snaps with his angry eyes on me.

“Well, it looks like the new owner of our club was about to get his ass kicked.”

Brett’s expression grows tenser.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Truett growls as he uses the edge of the table to help him get up to his feet, clearly struggling to rise. “You ungrateful little shit.”

“How could you do this?” Adam yells in anger. “To us. To Mom! ”

Truett only laughs as he fixes his suit. “You’ve got a lot to learn, son.”

“Son?” I hear Brett gasp.

“How could you do this?” Adam says, still held tightly in the bouncer’s grip. “You were supposed to take it down. You made a promise to the people.”

“And that’s why you’re going to keep your mouth shut about it. What the people don’t know won’t hurt them. They want a good preacher, but what I do in my private life doesn’t really matter so long as they have someone who looks like a good man. Because if they like me, they must not be so bad.”

Adam struggles against the bouncer’s grip on his arms. I wince again as his expression contorts from anger to anguish, the pain evident in his features. He looks like his entire world is collapsing, and I’m starting to think it is.

“Hold him,” Truett grunts.

The air is sucked from my lungs as I step closer, but Brett’s hand on my arm stops me.

What is happening?

The bouncer squeezes Adam’s arms even tighter behind his back and my stomach drops.

“I’m your father, so it’s my job to teach you a lesson. And your first lesson is a little humility because you’ve frightened that sweet girl and you’ve embarrassed me at this club.”

Truett rears back his fist and lets it fly. The smack as it lands hard against Adam’s face is audible, and I let out a scream at the sound.

“Stop!” I yelp.

Brett yanks me toward him as Truett lands another hard punch.

Adam spits blood onto the floor as he lifts his head back up to face his father.

“You never did fight fair,” he growls.

“Life isn’t fair, Adam. Grow up.” With that, he jolts forward, cracking Adam hard in the stomach with his fist.

Adam folds over in pain, and I tear myself out of Brett’s grasp.

Before he can grab me again, I thrust myself between the two men, putting a hand out to stop Truett from throwing another punch.

“Enough!”

He grimaces at me before glancing over at Brett. My teeth grind together as I see the two men sharing a silent conversation, and I realize, at this moment, I’m really out. Out of this club. Out of my relationship. Out of a lot of money.

“Get him out of here,” Truett says darkly as he turns his back to me.

I send one glaring expression toward Brett before I push the bouncer toward the door. He’s practically dragging Adam as he moans, looking like he’s about to pass out.

Fucking men.

As I push open the heavy door that leads to the back of the club, the bouncer tosses Adam out, and he rolls onto the dirty pavement with a groan.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I argue, but the guy only shrugs as he disappears back into the club.

“Assholes!” I shout in frustration, banging my fist on the heavy metal door. Rage is bubbling up inside me and I let it all out with a wailing scream.

Behind me, Adam groans again.

When I turn around, I find him struggling to his feet. He’s still clearly drunk and bleeding like crazy from his nose. As he

gets to a standing position, he sucks in a breath through his teeth, wincing with pain and grabbing his ribs.

Probably bruised a few of those.