Throne of Scars (Lost Kings MC 20)

“You too.” He pulls away and eyes my cut. “Still on parole, right?”

“For another couple of months. Been laying low and following the rules.” I cast a look around the clubhouse. “Mostly.”

“You shouldn’t be denied family after such a long stretch inside.”

I take that to mean he’s not judging me for breaking conditions of my parole to be at this party. It’s similar to something Serena once said to me.

Behind me, she’s still as a statue. I turn and wrap my arm around her, pulling her forward. “Priest, this is my ol’ lady.”

He runs his gaze over her property patch. “I see that.”

“Serena, this is our national president,” I finish, trying to ignore his sarcastic tone. I’m pretty sure Valentina was barely out of high school when Priest picked her up, so he can fuck all the way down to fuck-off town with the judgmental smirk.

“Good to meet you, Serena. You mind if I have a word with your ol’ man?”

“Of course not.” With her voice barely above a whisper, I can’t tell if she’s intimidated by Priest, worried he recognizes her, or something else.

I lean in closer to her. “Will you be all right?”

She nods quickly, her hair tickling my nose.

“Stay here by the bar, okay?”

She turns and meets my eyes briefly. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” I pop a kiss on her cheek and join Priest.

He sends his hand up, catching Z’s eye and pointing to the hallway opposite the bedrooms. Z nods and gestures for us to go ahead. I haven’t explored this part of the clubhouse yet, but Priest seems to know exactly where he’s headed.

“You’ve been busy since you got out,” Priest says in that slick, irritating way he’s always had. “Patched a girl already. Making up for lost time?”

From his mocking tone, it’s clear he thinks she’s a random muffler bunny I bumped into at the clubhouse or maybe an inmate groupie I met through a prison pen-pal program. And I’m happy to set him straight. “Yeah, she was my physical therapist.” I touch my shoulder and roll it forward. “Went to see her for an injury I got inside and, well…” I flash a sheepish smile and shrug.

Let that reminder of how much time I did for the club sink in, asshole.

Priest stops at a door on the right, knocks, then turns the knob, motioning for me to go in ahead of him.

“Nice bonus.” He closes the door behind us. It’s a simple room. Stark. A desk and a couple chairs. A map of New York stapled to the wall. Priest takes the seat behind the desk and nods to one of the chairs in front.

“She’s the only reason I think I was able to ride so soon,” I add, to really drive home the guilt.

“That’s good.” He touches his leg. “Physical therapy helped me a lot after I laid my bike down a few summers ago. He didn’t look anything like that, though.”

“Serena’s brains and beauty,” I answer in a tight voice, irritated he feels the need to compliment her looks. “I got lucky.”

“Yes,” he answers slowly. “I can understand why you wanted to lock her down quickly.”

I roll my eyes at the phrase, and he smirks.

After a few seconds of bullshitting, he turns serious. “I’m gonna be real with you, brother. I was concerned about how you’ve been doing since getting out. Making the adjustment after such a long stretch isn’t easy for a lot of brothers.”

Why do I suddenly feel like I’m having a counseling session with my parole officer?

“Yeah, it’s been rough,” I admit. “Club’s made it easier, though. Every time a problem could’ve derailed me, they’ve been there to ease the way.”

“By they, you mean Rock, Z, and Wrath?”

“Whole club, but yeah, they’ve gone out of their way for me. Wrath set me up with a legit job working for a friend of his. Murphy’s let me borrow his truck since I couldn’t ride when I got out. Teller’s set up online bank accounts and straightened things out for me. Rooster’s been helping me adjust to all the technology bullshit that’s changed. Z’s helped me with a few more personal matters. Everyone’s assisted me in one way or another.” Steer and Pants helped me drive home the point in a visceral way that Serena was off-limits. Don’t think that will impress Priest, though, so I don’t bother adding it to the list.

“I’m real glad to hear that. Especially since Murphy, Teller, and Rooster weren’t even patched brothers when you went inside.”

“I’ve known Murphy and Teller since they were kids. They were the ones who came to visit me most frequently. Got to know Rooster while I was inside. He paid me a few visits. Jigsaw and Dex visited me too from time-to-time. Steer wrote me letters. Ice sent me some care packages and shit. Squiggy kept me up-to-date on the southern gossip for a while.” My list keeps growing as I recall each kindness the club’s shown me over the years. “Club had to keep its distance for safety reasons. But individually, the brothers did what they could for me. Rock always made sure I had money in my accounts, which I’m sure you know goes a long way when you’re inside.”