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“What do you want me to cook for you? I have homemade pie,” she announces, changing the subject and dragging me into the kitchen. There are a few other women in here making food for a bunch of kids who are all sitting at the breakfast bar. It’s jarring, her sudden change in demeanour and conversation. “Oh, what a surprise to find you in here,” she mocks one of the brothers, who grins a toothy smile at her before chomping into a slab of cake.
“Ruby, darlin,' did you say yes to pie?”
“Pie sounds great. Thank you.” I need to get out of here.
Chapter Eighteen
Carnage
Keeping my expression calm and impassive as I’m marched through the club like some traitor bastard takes effort. All eyes are on me, and they’re suspicious. I’ve already been judged and they’re waiting on execution. Beneath the surface, I’m a volcano ready to erupt. I’ve already killed everyone in this room three different ways in my head, my inner darkness screaming for freedom. I don’t like being made to look like I’m the enemy when it was me who was set up and fucking tortured. Some motherfucker had my dick out and a knife running up it for fuck’s sake. Dicks are sacred. I would never threaten a man’s appendage…unless it went near Ruby, then I’d cut it off. The thought side-lines me and makes me angry. Where the hell is Ruby? I flit my eyes through the room and just catch a glimpse of her pulling Jackie toward the kitchen. That bitch has never liked me. Some people take issue when they can’t control or seduce you. Jackie may be passed around as a bar slut over the years and be considered a non-threat, but a bitch who has managed to keep her ass around for that long has relationships, secrets, loyalties. That makes her dangerous. I steer clear of bitches like her. They’re snakes.
“Let’s go.” Rage jerks his chin to the door in front of us. Entering the room where Animal, our prez, holds our church meetings, the energy shifts. There are no judging eyes, just relieved ones. I take a quick inventory of the men in the room and the exits, noting weapons I can take if I need to. I shouldn’t need to, but it’s in my DNA to lack trust in the people who are supposed to be family.
Rage and Jameson take a seat at the table next to Ink and Halo, brothers I’ve worked with in the past and respect. My gaze shifts to Koyn and his brother Copper who are in town for another reason according to Rage. They both lift their chin in greeting. I’ve done a few jobs over in Tulsa and have built a good connection with their chapter, especially Koyn. That man was created from pain. What he lived through, witnessing his family slaughtered, changes a man. I’m glad he built a new life for himself.
Animal takes his position at the head of the table and scans his gaze over me. Stress etches into his features. Bags sit beneath his eyes. A grim slash of his mouth shows he’s been through the wringer lately.
“I’ve asked Koyn and his brother to join us,” he informs me, then gestures to another man sitting at the table I don’t recognize. There’s an air about him. Power. “And this is Loki, the Reno prez.”
I offer Loki a nod as a sign of respect. I’m an asshole, but I respect the brotherhood. “Take a seat. We need to discuss what the hell is going on.”
Throwing my ass in the nearest seat, I steeple my hands on the table. “Where’s your patch?” Animal asks, eyeballing the old man clothes I’m wearing.
Jameson’s smirk doesn’t go unnoticed. Asshole has a chip on his shoulder because I was found with his sister and it was his woman who fixed me up. The thing about us Royal Bastards: we’re territorial when it came to our women. “I was captured and tortured. Didn’t get a chance to get my clothes back when we escaped.” I hate that my patch is with our enemy.
“We?” Animal quirks a brow.
He had to have been briefed by one of the brothers on our way back here, but I’ll indulge him. “Ruby. She was there too.” His eyes flit to Jameson, who fists his hand on the table.
“She’s okay,” he tells Animal.
Animal’s chest relaxes at the news. It dawns on me all the trauma this club has endured when it comes to the women related to these brothers. A while back, there was a serial killer butchering women, targeting the club’s females. The killer was one of ours—one of us. I was out of town when it all went down but felt the change in the time that followed.
“You’re injured,” Animal states.
Opening the shirt, showing my war wounds, I shrug. “Healing, thanks to the doc.” I’m still sore as fuck but I won’t admit that in a room full of hard as hell Bastards.
