Twenty-Five
That’s all it takes. The water flies first, right into Echo’s smug, laughing face. It splashes down his shirt, soaks his beard, and his mouth drops open in mock shock just as her hand comes flying in next. The slap echoes through the bar. It’s not a gentle one either. Her palm connects with the side of his face hard enough to turn his head, and every biker within earshot either hoots, whistles, or pounds the table like it’s the best thing they’ve seen all night. A few loud hollers from the guys who clearly didn’t expect her to go that hard on her first slap. Hell, even I blink. She didn’t just do it, she owned it. Even I wince a little. “Damn, Red. You trying to kill the man?” Echo straightens, grinning like a jackass with water dripping down his beard and a red mark blooming across
- Writer
