I head toward the chapel, where I know my brothers are waiting. The door is closed, and I knock twice before pushing it open.
The chapel is exactly what you’d expect, a long table surrounded by chairs. Denali sits at the head, with Pee Wee to his right. Klutch is in his spot as Sergeant-at-Arms, and the rest of the officers are in their assigned seats.
I take my place near the end of the table. As a Nomad, I sit wherever there’s an empty chair.
Denali looks up, his expression neutral. “How’d the trip go?”
Klutch and Train turn their eyes to me, clearly wanting me to be the one to explain the shit show that played out in Florida.
Denali arches a brow. “What?”
In for a penny, in for a pound. Here goes nothing.
Sucking in a breath, I let it out slowly. “I brought someone back with me.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Denali says dryly, pointing to the monitors on the wall behind me. “The pink-haired girl?”
I nod, glancing up at the screen. The girls are talking animatedly, unaware that they’re being watched. “Her name’s Savannah. She was with the Jacksonville Saints,” I answer, turning back to the table.
Denali’s brows snap together. “What do you mean she was with the Saints?”
I rub a hand over the back of my neck. “She was a club whore.”
Murmurs go around the room.
Denali snorts. “So let me get this straight. You brought a club whore—that you just met—back here with you?”
I puff out my cheeks, then blow out another heavy breath. “Yeah.” It sounds worse when he puts it like that.
He shakes his head. “How do I fucking know this story is only gonna get worse? Keep going.” He waves his hand out in front of him for me to hurry the fuck up.
“She was hiding from her ex.”
“And…”
“And he’s a member of the Dirty Devils MC.”
The room grows quiet as I fill them in on everything—how Eddie abused her, how he raped her, how he came back, wanting to kill her—all of it.
Once I’m done, I wait, watching as Denali processes all this information. He drums his fingers on the table, his face unreadable.
“And you want us to...?” he finally asks, cutting right to the chase.
“Protect her,” I answer simply.
Denali starts to shake his head, and I know he’s going to shut me down. She’s not an old lady and we have enough shit to deal with already. It’s unheard of to ask brothers to stick their necks out for someone who isn’t claimed.
“I’m claiming her,” I blurt out.
Pee Wee snorts. “You’re claiming a club whore? What the fuck for?”
My hands curl into fists under the table, and I have to fight to keep my expression neutral. Pee Wee is the VP, and I can’t disrespect him even though I want to take his fucking head off for calling her a whore. She did what she had to do to survive.
“She’s mine. End of story.” I shrug, like it’s no big deal, though every muscle in my body is coiled to strike.
Pee Wee turns his head, meeting Denali’s stare. I watch as they have a whole fucking conversation without uttering a single word. Then finally, Denali scrubs a hand over his face.
“Fine. You can keep the whore.”
