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“No. No buts. I’m serious, brother.”

Frustrated, I planned to try to talk to Angel, but then I worried. What if Ghost was right and he wouldn’t hear me out? I’d lose Jasmineandmy family, because if what Ghost said was true, Angel would make sure I never saw her again. Not that I was such a pussy that I wouldn’t survive, but I wouldn’t want to. Unless someone had grown up like I had, then been a part of something like the Royal Bastards, they wouldn’t understand.

Ghost slapped a hand to my shoulder and steered me out into the common area. Cheers went up from my brothers and the brothers from visiting chapters. The alcohol had really been flowing, and it was evident by the laughter, noise level, and behavior of everyone there.

Unbidden, a grin lifted my lips. I’d straighten everything out later. Tonight was a night to celebrate.

“Chains! Our newest brother!” Phoenix shouted with a huge grin as he raised his glass to me.

They shoved me into a chair at the center of the room as I laughed. They all started chanting, and I gazed around the room with a confused laugh. Then it dawned on me they were chanting “Bastards” broken into two beats. Laughing, they ran in a drunken circle around me, wrapping me to the chair with ribbon I could easily break out of but didn’t because I figured it was part of my initiation. If they wanted to “tie me up” and pour more alcohol on me, so be it. I’d survived the initiation line, so I’d survive one more liquor bath.

Then Cookie came sauntering through the crowd as it parted for her. Everyone was whooping. She gave me a saucy grin, and mine faltered a little when I saw she wore nothing but a skimpy thong. “What’s going on?” I asked, unease settling over me.

After dancing around me to a sultry tune someone popped on over the speakers, she dropped to her knees. To hoots of encouragement, she made a production of removing my belt and unzipping my jeans. I tried to pull away, but the ribbon I thought I could break didn’t budge.

“Cookie, what are you doing? Don’t do that,” I stuttered as soon as I realized what she was up to. Everyone cheered and laughed as she pulled out my cock and started stroking it. I jerked on the binding again.

Shit.

“Damn, boy, didn’t know you carried a cannon in your pants,” Kicker chortled. Any other time I would’ve been proud and joked with him. Hell, if it wasn’t for Jasmine, I might’ve humored them and let Cookie suck my cock in front of them. Except things were different now—because of Jasmine.

Despite my protests, everyone kept cheering and chanting.

Ghost wasn’t cheering, and I soon learned why. Evidently Jasmine had been making her way along the wall to get around everyone but had frozen when she hit a break in the crowd. That’s when our eyes met. Her whiskey gaze darkened to mocha as her eyes became glossy, and I struggled against the stupid fucking ribbons.

Angel must’ve noticed his sister’s horror at what she was seeing, because he pushed his way to her, blocking her from my view, and guided her out of the building. As I pulled at the bindings, what Ghost said kept poking at me. Jasmine deserving better than me. Losing my patch. Losing my family. Losing Jasmine anyway. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes.

“Enough!” I roared and the laughter fizzled out. Cookie backed off. “Take this shit off. Y’all are fucked up. You wanna drown me in whiskey, go ahead, but this is too fucking far,” I said. Someone sliced through the ribbon, and it fell. As I stood and straightened myself, the ribbon fluttered to my feet.

“Sorry, brother, we were just having fun, and well, we uh…” Kicker muttered.

“Cookie’s done that for you before, we just figured it would be funny,” E said as he shoved his hands in his pocket.

“Yeah, well that’s on my terms, fuckers,” I grumbled as I stormed off to my room.

My chest burned and ached as if someone had stabbed me in the heart, but I blocked everything out. Wishing it had been Jasmine kneeling at my feet, I knew the rest of my life would be spent pretending it was her.

And a piece of me died.

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