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“Is this a sick joke?”
Raising my hands to halt the outroar, I tell them, “Thane was right. I would do anything to protect this club – you all know it. And if that means patching over, then so be it. The patches we wear don’t change shit. We’re still the same club, the same men who have each other’s back no matter what colors we wear. Hounds or Kings, they stand for the same thing – loyalty, respect, family. If there’s anyone to blame for this mess we’re in, then it’s me. I gave the order to kidnap their prospect. I went too far, crossed a line I shouldn’t have. If someone had done the same to any one of you…” I shake my head. “Well, the Kings are letting us off easy. So, I apologize for what it’s come to, but I hope you’ll forgive me and give these guys a chance to prove they’re worth trusting too.”
Standing up, I slip off my cut and toss it on the center of the table, and then I wait to see who will join me.
The men all look to one another, confused, considering, unsure of what to do.
“What changed your mind, Isaac?” Everett asks.
“I…it’s the right thing to do,” I say instead of telling them about Holly. First, I need to talk to her, beg her to forgive me. “The Kings offered us protection. We’d be stupid to fight them for it. I know you all have people depending on you. People you love and want to keep safe. The best way to do that is by patching in with the best of them. Unlike most of our votes, this is an individual decision each one of you needs to make. Either walk away or join them. Thane and I made our decision. Now it’s your turn.”
“I ain’t about to be anyone’s bitch,” Hank grumbles.
“The Kings said we’ll be patched in as full members as soon as they conduct their background checks, not prospects.”
“I’m in,” Everett says as he gets to his feet first to throw in his leather on top of mine.
“Me too,” Trey says as he joins us.
One by one, every man at the table rises, not to leave but to shed their Devil Hound patches for the final time until only big Hank is left sitting, fuming. I swear smoke is about to come rolling out of his ears and nose.
“What’s holding you back, big guy?” I ask him.
“The Savage Kings, they’re all too…pretty.” He makes that word sound like an insult.
I try not to bite back my grin. “What do their looks have to do with anything?”
“Because they’ll cockblock us all!”
“Don’t worry, Hank. As soon as women see that skull king, they’ll be dropping to their knees to worship you,” Dallas tells him, making Hank grin and the rest of us laugh.
“Is that true, pres?” he asks, then winces because it’s not a title I’ll have much longer.
“Guess we’ll have to find out, won’t we?” I ask him.
“Fine,” he huffs as he finally stands up and removes his cut that’s so big it could be used as a tablecloth. “I’m in.”
* * *
Later that night, I still hadn’t figured out how to begin to apologize to Holly, so I went to apologize to someone else.
A light was still on in the house when I pulled up, so I chanced ringing the doorbell, hoping I wouldn’t get shot for it.
The blondest of the Fulton brothers answers a moment later in a gray sweatshirt and jogging pants.
“What do you want?” he asks as he studies me. Before I can answer, he says, “Oh,” as if he recognized I’m not wearing my cut. “Thane, it’s for you!” he called out.
“Me?” I hear him reply from inside the house. “Hold on. I gotta get some clothes on.”
The Fulton brother – RJ, I think they call him – grins as he repeats that. “He’s gotta put some clothes on.”
“So I heard. Congrats on getting hitched.”
“Thanks,” he replies just before Thane appears behind him, wearing similar attire. “Isaac? Where’s your…oh.” His eyes widen as he takes in my lack of leather.
“Got a minute?” I ask him.
“Yeah, come on in.”
