Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

pinch of their lips that they both want Clay’s scalp.
“Well,” Macon replies, blowing out a heavy breath. “Shit. You were
right.” He looks at me. “She is smart.”
I nod, bracing for what’s coming. “Told you,” I play along.
Aracely and her pals move in, Dallas and Trace following as the circle
closes.
“Damn, I’m…” Macon shakes his head, and I watch as his guys slowly
shift around the room, taking up position behind each Saint.
I blink long and hard. Shit.
“I’m really at a loss for words,” Macon says. “What do you say, men?
Five-hundred years of keeping this land from them, and now, here, today, is
finally the day they call our number and take us down?”
Laughter fills the room, and I curl my toes in my boots, my muscles
burning ready.
Macon smiles at Clay. “All at the hands of Baby Collins and the Preppy
Posse.”
“I’m shitting my pants,” Trace says.
“Shakin’ in my boots,” Dallas coos, eyeing Callum.
Macon moves in front of Clay, hovering over her, and Callum leaps,
ready to grab her, but Santos grabs him instead.
“What the fuck?” Callum growls.
All hell breaks loose. Swamps grabbing Saints, holding them in locks,
and I watch as Clay’s pieces fall around her, leaving the Queen unprotected.
I look to Macon, opening my mouth, but I clamp it shut again. She asked
for this, didn’t she? Let her find out how false her security was with me. How
much I let her get away with when it could’ve been so much worse.
“Can I show you something?” Macon asks her, not breaking a sweat. He
grabs her by the back of the neck, and she screams as he drags her over to a
motorbike on cinder blocks, someone already started the engine, the tires
spinning wildly.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a split second. Goddammit. Goddamn her.
She just had to open her big mouth.
“Clay!” Krisjen screams, but she can’t move. Trace is holding her.
“Get off her!” Callum bellows.
I hear Amy yell, “Liv! What the hell? Do something!”
But I don’t budge.
Opening my eyes, I watch Macon push Clay to her knees and squats