“What kind of favor?” he asks, immediately suspicious.
“Don’t know yet.” I grin, shrug, and skip away.But I freeze at the bottom of the stairs. Fuck. The clubhouse is packed.My pulse spikes. All those people. All those eyes. They all… Suddenly, breathing feels impossible.
“Hey, none of that,” Domino whispers, sliding an arm around my shoulders. “You’ve got nothing to be afraid of, princess.”
“They…” I try to inhale. Can’t. “They were all there.”
“No, they weren’t. It was six of us. Bones included. That’s it.” He squeezes my shoulder. “No one blames you. No one’s judging you. Ghost came clean. Owned up to it in front of the club. Called for a vote. Not just for his VP rank but his patch, too.”
“He did?” Disbelief cracks through my voice. I know what this club means to him. He gave up college for it. Turned down top music schools all over the country. He could’ve gone anywhere. If he had, he wouldn’t have met me. His life wouldn’t have been destroyed. Fuck. No.No.Stop with the guilt.
He sighs. “Yeah. Gotta be honest with you, though. No one thinks ill of you, the opposite actually. But they don’t hold anything against Ghost either. That’s why he kept his patch. And his rank.”
I frown, confused. “Why would they hold anything against him? He’s your brother.”
“Brother or not, what he did? It was fucked. Normally that kind of shit comes with consequences. He could’ve put the club in danger, with your connection to the law and that cartel. Plus, after the Bones and Temperance mess, we set new rules to avoid repeats.”
He sighs again. “But your situation… it’s more complicated. No rule could cover it. And Ghost… well, fuck. I joined when he was still locked up. Heard his story from the brothers. Met him when he got out. Guy was wrecked. Like, truly fucked in the head. Did so much shit, I honestly thought he was gonna end up in a ditch before the year was out.”
He pauses, then shrugs. “Then one day, he just stopped. Out of the blue. Got his shit together. Worked like hell. Got votedin as VP. And he’s a damn good one, no matter his personal problems. But everyone remembers what he was like after prison. That’s why we figured it’s best to stay out of it now. No one knows what any of us would’ve done in his shoes. He’s kind of a cautionary tale around here.”
He lifts a brow. “He’s also the reason most of the brothers are single.”
I blink. “You’re shitting me. How many of you guys are single?”
“Princess, we’ve got over a hundred members just in Silverpine. How many Ol’ Ladies have you seen sitting around? Most of us are running from commitment like the Devil from holy water,” he mutters, half-laughing. “Driftwood’s not much better. Hell, it even spread to other Chapters too.”
He starts walking, dragging me along.
“Those poor club girls,” I mutter, still processing everything he just said.
He laughs, loud, deep, whole body shaking. “Oh, they’re fine. Trust me. They love the attention. Especially on party nights like this. Some of them even stir shit just to make the brothers fight over them.”
I slap the back of my hand against his chest to stop him.
“They can say no, right?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “I know Pops had that rule. You kept it. Right?”
His face twists with offense. “Offuckingcourse we did. But we added more. Background checks are a thing now.”
I stare at him. “You run background checks on the club girls?”
He snorts. “After what happened with Temperance? Fuck yes, we do. Prez isn’t taking any chances anymore.”
I shake my head, eyebrows damn near touching my hairline. “That’s actually smart.”
He shrugs. Casual. “We fuck up. We learn. We get smart.”
“You could try not fucking up in the first place,” I snap.
He grins, like I just said the most absurd thing in the world.
The moment everything he just shared catches up with my brain, I blink in stupefaction. “Wait, did you say a hundred members? That’s just here? After the split from Driftwood? Fuck. I remember that the club was half this size before. Pops must be so proud.”
“When Bones took over, money started pouring in. Fast. Brought a lot of new blood,” he says, tone matter-of-fact.
“So it’s your fault I couldn’t find a place to rent,” I deadpan. “You flooded the whole area.”
“Probably,” he nods, chuckling.
