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“Ain’t a party guy, if that’s what you’re asking, but sure, I like a pint or two. The club’s pretty social and drinkin’ is kinda part of that. Once a month, we have this family day thing where we all get together, brothers, old ladies, family. Ain’t happened since I’ve been at Manchester, but shit’s been difficult. We did it all the time in London.”
“That’s where you were based in the past?”
He blows out a breath. “Yeah. I grew up a stone’s throw from the London chapter’s clubhouse. After I was put into foster care, I was bounced around different boroughs. Didn’t care much for being in the system. I was seventeen when I went AWOL from the boys’ home where I was living. I found my way to the clubhouse and started hanging around. Made myself useful. Did odd jobs, shit the brothers weren’t interested in. It got me noticed, and Nox sponsored me as a prospect.”
I can hear the pride in his voice. “How long were you a prospect?”
“Not long enough. Ravage, the President there, patched me in fast. I was so fucking happy the day I became a full brother.”
That pride has turned to something else, and I press my palm against his chest, needing to be closer to him. “How did you end up here?”
“I fucked up. Repeatedly. My anger was always an issue. I’d throw myself into fights just to feel something. Rav wanted a certain kind of man in his ranks, and I fit that mostly, but my temper… fuck. I got locked up for fighting, and Rav was fuming. It was come here or lose my kutte, so I came to Manchester. I didn’t expect to fit in or like it here, but…”
“But you do?” I finish for him.
“Yeah, I do. I mean, Hawk treats me like I’m his kid, but he cares, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had that. Howler embraces my craziness, even though he shouldn’t. I feel like this is home, and I’ve never had that before either.”
This admission makes my eyes prick with tears. The thought of him out there, never belonging, stabs me in the heart. Had Rage been raised with parents who loved him, his life would have been so different.
I realise in this moment how important it is for us to remain with the club. Rage needs this place, and I need him. “I like it here, too,” I admit.
“Ain’t an easy life, bein’ an old lady. There are things that a brother can’t tell his woman. There’s shit that comes up last minute that has to be dealt with. Runs that last weeks sometimes.”
All of that should worry me, but it doesn’t. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. I mean, that’s the life, right?”
He stares at me, as if trying to fathom if I’m talking shit. “You wouldn’t care about that stuff?”
I shake my head. “As long as when you come home, you come to me, no, I don’t. Those women in that room might be older than me and maybe they know a lot more, but not one of them seem unhappy.” Except for Heidi.
He nibbles on his bottom lip, his eyes unfocused, and I wonder what he’s thinking. “Old lady… it ain’t just a title, Skye. It means something within these walls.”
“Okay,” I say, not sure what he’s driving at. I thought it just meant wife or girlfriend of a member, but the way he’s looking at me makes me pay attention. “What’s it mean?”
“An old lady is an extension of a brother. He’s responsible for her actions, but with that comes the protection of the club and a respect from our members.”
I want to ask him if I’m considered an old lady, but I’m too scared to voice it. He pushes my hair off my face, his eyes crawling mine. “What happened in that room shouldn’t have happened, and if you were an old lady, the consequences of what that cunt did would be worse.”
“So, he gets a shittier punishment because I don’t have that title?”
“Old ladies are off-limits.”
I sit up, pushing my hair off my face and turn to him. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say, Beau.”
His jaw ticks for a second before he seems to compose himself. “I don’t know what’s coming, but I do know the danger here ain’t passed. Your dad is still lookin’ for you, and at some point, he’s gonna find out we have you. If you ain’t mine, I can’t protect you.”
I frown at him, still not understanding. “I am yours.”
“Not officially.” He reaches out, grasping my hand as if he needs to be touching me. “I want to make us official, Skye.”
“Like, we’re dating official?”
His lips quirk at the corners. “I was inside you for hours yesterday. I think we’re past dating.”
My cheeks heat at his crassness. “Don’t say it like that.”
