Bred by the MC Prez (Breeding Season 5)

He walked into the clubhouse.

No sign of Beth. She was probably in their room. He paused at the entrance to the church room. All of his men would be there in a matter of moments.

He needed to fix things with Beth, but right now, she needed some space. He’d grabbed her around the neck. Would he have been able to choke her? To extinguish all the life out of her eyes?

Stepping into the room, he took his seat at the head of the table.

He was a damn good president to this club. He’d always put it first. His life, his very existence had been for the Hell’s Slaves MC. He’d bled for them. For the first time in his MC days, he truly believed he’d put the wrong thing first. The club should have come second. It would always be there, waiting for him. Beth was a living breathing person who wanted nothing more than his love.

He had to make it up to her.

Chapter Ten

“That fucker thinks he’ll use our club as a pawn for his other debts. After I took his daughter and waived off the money he owed, this is how he repays me?”

Forge made his intentions crystal clear.

Peterson was going to die. It wasn’t a matter of someday. It was happening. All his brothers in arms had specific instructions to get the job done. And he was going to make an example of the first whore to open her mouth about Beth again. Forge wasn’t going to tolerate whispers and accusations. His house needed to be put into order.

Club life was hardcore. Unlike with Beth, if one of these assholes smelled blood or weakness, they’d eat him alive. He had no grand illusions otherwise. He’d taught himself never to trust, for good reason, but he had to learn when to draw the line or he’d lose the woman he loved. Once Peterson was dead, no one would be able to play her against him. It was hard enough falling for a civilian, so he didn’t need all this extra bullshit in his life.

“There’s some talk he already sold our rivals inside information,” said Dog.

“I want every man with ears on this buried. Peterson, his hired hands, the clubs he’s given information to. This is going to be a big fucking cleanup.”

“We don’t know what he’s leaked,” said Dog.

“After tonight, we’ll know.”

“Peterson’s girl,” said Vicious. “She involved?”

Forge clenched his fist under the table, taking several cleansing breaths before speaking. “Don’t fucking mention her. Not one fucking time. She’s innocent. If anyone thinks otherwise, bring it to me personally.” He scanned the room, making eye contact with as many men as he could. “Questioning my judgment or loyalty to this club will be a mistake.”

Forge leaned back in his chair and waved his hand in the air. The men left the church. This would be put to rest tonight.

He placed a hand on Hound’s shoulder as he got up to leave. “You’re my sergeant at arms, so I’m counting on you. Can you handle the job?”

“My hands aren’t clean. Tell me who to kill, and it’s done.”

“I want to be the one to end Peterson.”

Hound nodded.

“And if there’s anyone in this club sharing information, I need you to handle that shit. You know how important a secure club is to me. And keep an eye on those bitches. You saw how fast Romy was to open her mouth.”

“What do you want me to do with her, anyway?”

Romy was still locked up at the club. Forge was so pissed off with what went down that he still hadn’t come up with a fitting punishment. “She’s not a priority right now. First we find our snitch.”

Forge waited until he was alone. The large room echoed when he cleared his throat.

He’d fucked up.

How was he going to prove himself to Beth after putting his hands on her throat? She had no reason to trust him now. He’d made her feel small when he’d been working hard at building her up since she came into his care.

I’m a fucking idiot. He smashed his fist against the table. He’d been more worried about the club thinking he was pussy-whipped than using his damn head. Beth would never betray him. She’d been a fucking angel in his life. There was no reason to question or accuse her. Next time anyone questioned his judgment, he’d handle it much differently. He wasn’t Prez because he kissed ass.

As he left the clubhouse, some bikes were already leaving the gates. He loved the purr of the engines. He felt the rumble in his chest, and the ground vibrated beneath his boots. Before he joined his brothers, he had to at least try to make peace with Bet