“Cut him down, for fuck’s sake,” Torin Fury, the Kings’ president, demands. Several guys pull off their masks and take out knives when they come over to start cutting the ropes holding me upside down. “And remind me to never piss off you or your crew, Roman.”
“Same goes for your prospect,” the man with curly auburn hair says as I’m finally eased down to my feet. “The kid broke Verek’s nose, and he is pissed!”
“Now I look like Owen fucking Wilson with a smashed in beak!” a guy with brown hair shaved close on the sides exclaims. Not that I have any guilt about messing him up. Serves them right.
“Seriously guys?” I ask the Kings when they all come to a stop in front of me. “Were you trying to fucking kill me?”
“Nah, just seeing what you were made of,” Abe replies with a grin while stroking his black beard. “Shit’s been too quiet lately, so we needed to see how you would hold up under destress.”
“Duress,” Chase amends with a chuckle.
“That’s what I said, right?” Abe grumbles, his brow crinkled.
“Duress?” I huff. Pointing over to where I was just hogtied and hanging upside down, I say, “I think most people would call that cruel and unusual torture.”
War, the most fatherly of the crew, walks up and clasps his big hand on my shoulder. “I had no idea that the Myrtle Beach Kings were gonna go all out like that, or I wouldn’t have signed off on it. You okay, kid? We heard and saw everything.”
“So you all told them to beat the shit out of me?” I say in disbelief.
“You held your own,” Reece says with a grin. “I taught you well, young Padawan.”
“My ears are still ringing from the beating, and they nearly suffocated me!” I mutter.
“Maybe this will make you feel better,” Maddox says when he offers me a handful of paper.
No, not paper. Patches.
Mother. Fucking. Patches.
“Are you serious?”
“Yep. We voted this morning at the table right after you hit the road,” Maddox confirms with a smile. “Pending you not dying or ratting anyone out once the MB Kings had a little fun with you first, of course.”
“Holy shit,” I mutter as I stare down at the patches – the Savage Kings rocker that goes at the top of my cut. The North Carolina one for the bottom. And then finally, the big ass bearded skull king for the center.
“Better get to sewing,” Dalton says when he comes up and slaps my back. “Might take a while to get all of those on tight.”
“Holy shit,” I say again. I can’t believe it’s finally happening. After two and a half years of hanging around the clubhouse, becoming a prospect and doing all the shit work for the guys, I’m finally in.
There have been so many times that I wanted to say screw it and walk away, tired of waiting and wanting to be with Evelyn. But I always knew that the Savage Kings were my best shot, not just to wear the cut but to earn respect, a lifelong brotherhood, and maybe even soon, making a damn good paycheck.
“If you want to be part of our convoy tomorrow in the charity ride, you better sew that shit on tonight,” Miles tells me.
“I’m riding with you all tomorrow?” I ask him with a grin that soon falls. “Fuck. I don’t have my bike.”
“Roman?” Torin asks, looking to the head Myrtle Beach guy.
“Oh, right,” he says. “As an apology to you from the Kings of Myrtle Beach, we would like to offer you your choice of any Harley in stock at our dealership.”
“You guys have your own Harley dealership?” I say in disbelief.
“Fuck yeah,” Roman replies. “Best one on the entire east coast. One of the twins will meet you there.”
“Twins? Are they hot?” Sax pipes up and asks just as two identical blonde surfer-looking dudes step forward from the MB group.
“We think so,” they say at the same time with matching shit-eating smirks.
“So, Sax, do you think Isobel would be up for you adding another dick or two in between the sheets?” Ian chuckles, one of the few times he’s not been brooding in the last few weeks.
“My bad,” Sax grumbles.
“Are we gonna just stand around here all night, or are we going to get shitfaced?” Cooper interjects. “Because I, for one, think it’s been too fucking long since we had a night off from our wives. God knows we love them, and I don’t know about you fellas, but my dick needs a break before my woman fucks it right off!”
“Amen!” Dalton agrees. “One last hurrah before Chase and Abe become daddies who drive minivans and shit.”
“Oh fuck you!” Torin tells him with a flash of his middle finger as we all head for the door of the warehouse. He’s had a minivan for years now to haul his two kids around. “You’re just jealous because Peyton won’t call you Daddy in the sack until you knock her up,” our president says, making the other guys chuckle.
The Kings keep up their teasing of each other the rest of the night as we all hang out in the VIP section of the Myrtle Beach Kings’ beachfront club. I learn all sorts of shit about them that I didn’t know as an outsider, and someone even gets one of the servers to find me a needle and thread so I can make my patching in official.
I’ve just gotten finished with my sewing when Ian sits down next to me with his glass of water. “So, I’ve never seen you with any girls,” he says.
“You’ve only been out of prison for a few weeks,” I point out while he watches me squirm into my cut under his hawk eyes.
“Few months,” he corrects. “And in those months, I’ve never seen you with a girl. What’s up with that?”
“Nothing is up with that.”
“It’s okay if you like men too,” he tells me.
“I don’t like men,” I assure him with a chuckle. “No offense to you or Gabe. How is he, by the way?”
The mention of his significant other, or one of Ian’s significant others since he’s also with Quincey, has the convict frowning. “Gabriel’s…hanging in there,” he grumbles. “Just nine more months to go. Quincey and I are going to see him tomorrow after the charity ride.”
“Good,” I say. “Tell him I said hello.”
“I will,” Ian agrees gruffly and then clears his throat. “Now, let’s get back to you. Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to deflect. I’m the master of deflection. Tell me about your girl.”
“I don’t have a girl,” I say honestly. I don’t. At least not yet.
“You’re obviously hung up on someone just like the rest of us schmucks, otherwise you would’ve slipped that cut on and gone to get your dick wet with one of the hundreds of girls dancing in bikinis here tonight.”
“Fine. I guess hung up is one way of putting it,” I tell him.
“She break your heart? Leave you for someone else? Fuck you over?”
“All of the above. Well, she didn’t mean to fuck me over…” I say.
“But she did.”
“Yeah,” I answer on a sigh.
“When?”