Six Guns: Volume Two by Sara V. Zook

was like they’d forgotten I was even in the room. I got to sit here and listen to the shit show. And the newbies—they just sat there not knowing what to say or do. Not exactly how I had envisioned this meeting to go, but hey, whatever. Let the new guys see exactly what this group was all about. Who wouldn’t want to be here, right? Fucking hilarious and degrading at the same time.
    “Well, Carmine’s gone, isn’t he? I think we should’ve voted,” Hagan remarked.
    Seton lunged across the table and cranked Hagan along the side of his jaw. There was a crunching noise. Had Hagan seriously not been expecting that? Even I was anticipating Seton totally losing it, and Hagan had been around way longer than me.
    Once Hagan had momentarily recovered from what I could only assume was excruciating pain from what looked like a broken jaw—if nothing else, it was out of place—his face transformed into one of a psychopath, like he was going to try to take Seton on. Was he insane? Seton was a monster, and when he was mad like this, he was a hundred times stronger. Hagan lunged across the table toward Seton who looked hungry for a fight. He was waiting for Hagan, ready to end his existence. The Triplets jumped to their feet. One grabbed Hagan and held him back, another one latched onto the back of Seton’s arms.
    “Enough,” I said in a stern tone. “Sit the fuck down. Now.”
    Seton struggled against the arms of the Triplet for a few more seconds before ripping away from him and going back to his chair. Hagan wiped blood from the side of his mouth, his bottom lip ripped wide open. He was an utter mess. Served him right, too.
    “Someone go get him a towel. He’s bleeding all over my floor,” I said.
    Augie stood then and left the room, returning with a navy blue towel and handing it to Hagan who snatched it away as he was still attempting to cool down.
    “I should shoot all you assholes for acting this way.” I aimed the direction of my stare at Hagan though. He’d really pissed me off, and I was very happy that he was in a world of misery right now. He needed a doctor, but I wasn’t going to let him go just yet. “Brock, Ham, Stan, stand up.”
    All three men stood up. I watched to see how they’d reacted to the whole Seton/Hagan thing. None of them seemed the least bit phased, which surprised me, because when I’d first come up here, I was ready to piss my pants. Then again, these three wanted to be here. This kind of stuff gave them shits and giggles. I hadn’t had much of a choice in the whole thing.
    “Take care of these men. Make them feel welcome. If I hear any of you assholes making trouble for them, there’ll be hell to pay. You better take that comment seriously, because I mean it.” I glanced around the room.
    “Can I have some ice?” Hagan asked.
    “No, you can’t fucking have some ice,” I snapped. “We’ll start these guys off easy and ease them into the whole thing. Any simple jobs, give to Brock or Ham for now. Stan has already been made aware of his position.”
    Stan nodded. He was watching Lilah, and she was pissed about it, but it needed to be done—for now at least. Lilah would be a target as she was associated with me. Even more so because of the fact she’d named the boutique Cain Designs. I still had plans to make that my underground hiding hole if need be. I just didn’t want anything happening to her, people using her as leverage or anything like that. Somebody taking her, possibly torturing her—that scared the shit out of me.
    I slowly stood, bracing my hands against the edge of the table as I looked over all of these men— my men. “The alcohol is flowing downstairs. I’m sure there are girls waiting to knock down the door by now. Go party and show these three men what it’s like to be a part of us.” The guys got up to leave, their moods instantly improving. “Hagan,” I said as he, too, stood, “A word.”
    He now had a defeated look to him as the side of his