Resurrecting Ghosts (Kings of Chaos 4) - Page 43

I let the smoke relax me and meditate on his words. There might be some validity to his advice. I don’t want to fuck my kid up before he or she even gets here.

The sound of bikes pulling up has us coming around the side of the building.

“Nomads,” I say finishing off the smoke and stubbing it out with the toe of my boot.

“Shit’s about to get a lot more interesting now,” Shadow says.

“The Old Lady is about to get one hell of an education.”

“You coming in?” he asks.

“Nah, I’m going to hang back and let her sweat it out alone for a minute. I want to see how she handles herself.”

“Never pegged you for the cruel type to play games, brother. Careful you don’t let this anger turn you into someone you aren’t.”

Is this what it was like with my father? Did his love twist him into someone he didn’t recognize? It wasn’t fair to compare Ruthie to my mother. She was a woman never meant to be tamed. A wandering hippie, she flitted through life practicing free love. Dad met her at a strip club and invited her back for an after party. They continued sort of off and on courtship until she was knocked up and he married her. My grandparents never sugar coated the truth.

Constantly looking for the door, she would go into rages over anything she saw displeasing. It was gasoline on a fire. I always thought if he had something steady in his life like the club, he might’ve made it. I know the brothers kept me from going completely off the rails on many occasions. We’re members of a dying breed, people who’re loyal to the death. Everything we do is for the greater good, because it’s about the club as a whole, not one individual. It’s a throwback to the caveman days when people lived in a group for protection.

Knowing if you fall, you have a brother bringing up the rear to take care of what needs to be done makes you feel immortal. No matter what, a part of me lives on. I’m part of a legacy. That knowledge has always given my life meaning and me a sense of purpose. A default mission. Thinking of the bean growing in Ruthie’s belly, I guess that’s extending now. I want to provide a life for the kid I never had. That means making sure my shit is solid and stable. I turn on my heels, ready to continue getting my house in order.

The club is livelier now. It always happens when the nomads roll through. They party like they live, fast and on the edge. I sweep the crowd looking for Charm. He hit the road to clear his head after the shit went down with Mouth. It had to be a blow to see the father he once idolized for the bigoted traitor he turned out to be. His big brother, Echo has expressed his concern about Charm.

I find Charm talking to his brothers in whispered tones. I do a double take. He looks nothing like the boyish man who left. No longer lanky and lean, the brother is seriously jacked. His long hair has been chopped short, and there’s a hardness about him I never associated with the light hearted member. Named Charming for his roguish charisma, he was the quintessential Peter Pan of the group. Shit’s changing all over the place. It’s not a bad thing, but too much of it too fast, can bring doubt and restlessness. We need to land from this tailspin and plant our feet firmly.

&nbs

p; I see Dixie and Blue talking at the bar. Where the hell is Ruthie? I mouth.

She mouths back, Bathroom.

I wade through the crowd to the hallway. I don’t like leaving her alone with people I don’t know. She’s too new for them to realize she’s been taken.

“Damn. Looks like the San Mateo chapter is getting variety. They added a chocolate dime piece, and now a redhead that ain’t out the bottle.”

My nostrils flare as I round the corner. Ruthie’s hands are pressed against the massive chest of a bald-headed brother I’ve never seen before. The nomad patch, scars on his face, and the sinister tone puts me on edge. Not every brother plays nice with women.

“Not interested,” Ruthie says.

“Bitch, you don’t get a say so. That’s how this works.”

“I’m not some slut waiting to get fucked—”

He pushes her into the wall and I blank out. I yank him away sending him careening into the opposite wall as I stand in front of her. “Motherfucker, do you have a death wish?”

“The fuck is wrong with you, brother? I don’t see a property patch or a tat, and I know the Old Ladies here. There aren’t that many.”

“Go get your dick wet elsewhere. This party is for me and my new Old Lady.”

He holds up his hands. “I didn’t realize the bitch was yours. You might want to put a mark on her and teach her to watch her fucking mouth.”

My eyes flick to his patch. Mean, how appropriate. “You don’t worry about what I do with my woman. If you don’t want your ass handed to you, Mean, you’ll apologize and step the fuck off.”

His eyes widen and I swear I see hell fire in their depths. “I don’t give a fuck if this is your chapter or not. Your bitch was out of line.”

“No, she was protecting herself.”

“She should’ve said she was an Old Lady—”

Tags: Shyla Colt Kings of Chaos Erotic
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