Patriot (Silver Saints MC)

“Go with Bridget, baby. I’ll check on you soon.”

Bridget directed her next words at me. “I’ll put her in the west—”

“You know where to put her, baby,” Mac interrupted casually.

Bridget looked at Mac, then glanced back at me and frowned. Her gaze finally returned to her old man’s, and she put her free hand on her hip. “We talked about that, Jared.”

“No, baby, you talked about it. I didn’t agree.”

I knew exactly what conversation Mac was referring to. Apparently, Bridget didn’t think we should take our women straight to our rooms. We should let them come to us.

But that wasn’t how it worked. Setting aside the fact that I wouldn’t let Cherry sleep without me under any circumstances, putting her in my room was the best protection she had without wearing a property patch.

I narrowed my eyes at Mac, and he shook his head, telling me to stay out of it.

“Exactly,” Bridget said. “So I’ll put her—”

“You know where to put her, Bridget.” His tone was firm this time. The inflection meant he wouldn’t budge, not even for his wife.

“Fine!” Bridget threw her arms up in exasperation. “A bunch of cavemen!”

Mac grinned. “We both know you love my caveman.”

Bridget blushed hard as she led Cherry out of the office.

5

Erin

I wasn’t sure what to think as I followed Bridget through the Silver Saints clubhouse. Patriot and his club kept blowing my assumptions out of the water. I’d already been scared when Patriot’s president had called us into his office, and my fear skyrocketed when he’d said that Razor had already called him. I’d thought he was going to light into Patriot before telling me that I had to go back to the Devil’s Jesters. I hadn’t known how to react when he’d offered me shelter, let alone to help me disappear if it came down to that.

Then I found out he married his old lady—which was unheard of in Razor’s club. I’d once made the mistake of asking my sister why she wasn’t married when they’d been together so long. Alice had insisted it wasn’t something she wanted, but I could tell she was trying to convince herself as much as me that she was okay with wearing Razor’s property patch but not his ring.

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t realize Bridget had asked me a question until she gently tugged on my arm and repeated it. “Do you want a drink or anything before we head upstairs?”

“Um, yeah. That would be great. Thanks.” She ducked behind the bar lining a wall, and I glanced around the lounge area. It wasn't what I’d expected either. The only stuff it had in common with the Devil’s Jesters clubhouse was the bar and a bunch of couches and tables spread throughout the space. But this place was clean, and there wasn’t a single club bunny hanging around.

Two women were sitting with a couple of club members at one of the tables, but they wore property patches that identified them as old ladies. I recognized both men. One of them had been at the gate when we’d pulled in, but his scary expression from earlier completely disappeared as he smiled at the brunette on his lap. The other had been sitting at the same table at Hell’s Kitchen with Patriot. He made a gagging noise when the couple across from him kissed, and the blonde next to him giggled. “Quit giving Dax and Arya a hard time, babe. You like PDA just as much as they do.”

He wrapped his hand around the back of her head to pull his old lady close and prove her right by laying a wet, deep kiss on her. When he finally pulled back, he complained, “Yeah, but she’s my sister. I don’t need to see that shit when they’ve got a perfectly good room upstairs.”

“So? Rylee is my best friend, but I don’t complain when you get all touchy-feely with her around me, Nova,” Arya huffed, turning to glare at her brother.

“Sorry, baby, but he has a point.” Dax rubbed his beard against the back of Arya’s neck. “It’s not the same thing.”

“You’ll notice that he didn’t say anything about sparing me from having to watch you two kiss in the future,” Nova muttered.

I was fascinated by their back and forth, but I tore my gaze away from the couples when Bridget asked, “Coke, Sprite, Diet Coke, root beer, water, juice, milk, or something stronger?”

Once again, I was surprised. The list of options didn’t sound as though it belonged in an MC clubhouse. “You have milk?”

“Yeah, just in case the kids want some when they take a break from running around being savages. Right now, they’re all being quiet because I turned on a movie, but you’ll see what I mean soon enough. Probably when we break up the party to take them home.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I should warn you, we only have whole milk. So it’s pretty thick if you’re used to drinking skim.”