Chapter 13
Royal
The Kings of Anarchy ain't good men.
But tonight?
They're worse than usual.
We crowd into the old chapel room, our Church, walls still scarred from fists and knife tips and a bullet someone swore was accidental.
The table in the center used to be a guard’s desk.
Legend sits at the head. The brothers are already loud when I walk in, pretending I didn’t almost claim our prisoner last night.
Rye elbows Whiskey. “Look who finally dragged his ass outta babysitting.”
Derby snorts. “Babysittin’? Boy’s got himself a pet bird in a cage.”
“Not a bird,” Bullet says. “More like a feral cat that pisses on your boots while you’re sleepin’.”
Laughter explodes around the table.
Even Vandal cracks a grin. “What’s wrong? Pussy got your tongue?”
“Royal, when you gonna admit Becki’s got your number?” Rye asks.
I drop into my chair with a glare sharp enough to slice Rye’s smirk off his face. “Keep runnin’ that mouth, I’ll carve my number into your ribs.”
More laughter. Nobody takes the threat lightly, but they never take it seriously either. Not unless I’m already holding the knife.
Oaks sits near the back, quiet as a corpse, not meeting my eyes.
Good.
The fucker remembers what I told him. One more wrong look at Becki and I’ll peel the skin off his fingers.
Rye slaps the table. “Fuck all this. Question is, what the hell we doin’ with her?” He grins, wicked and wide. “I vote we don’t keep trouble in the clubhouse. Too many ways to dispose of a problem.”
“Shotgun and a ditch,” Whiskey offers.
“Old mine shaft in Harlan,” Bullet says. “Never be found.”
“Throw her in the Crooked Creek,” Derby adds. “Let her mama’s ghost take the blame.”
More laughter.
I frown.
“Christ,” Vandal says. “She’s little, but she ain’t that little. Y’all talkin’ disposal like we’re takin’ out a rabid raccoon.”
Rye leans back. “Well? She a threat? If she is, put her down. If she ain’t, put her to good use.”
Whiskey whistles. “Good use, huh? That’s one way to say it.”
Bullet laughs so hard he coughs. “Hell, Oaks probably volunteered to be her pimp. Already heard he’s in the doghouse.”
All eyes turn to Oaks.
He stiffens immediately. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Man’s red in the face,” Rye says. “Guilty as sin.”
“Leave me out of this,” Oaks snaps.
Leaning forward, I snarl, “Yeah, leave him out of it.”
Silence drops like a hammer.
Legend hasn’t said a damn thing yet. He’s been watching us all, murder simmering under his skin.
Finally, he stands.
And every brother shuts up.
“Becki’s a traitor,” Legend says, voice flat and final.
“A liar. Manipulative as her daddy trained her to be.” His eyes slice around the table.
“And I don’t give a damn what story she’d tell if we let her speak.
I don’t believe for one second he blackmailed her.
Every word that comes out of that girl’s mouth is poison. ”
The room changes.
Just like that.
The humor drains, replaced by something heavier.
Rye clears his throat. “Well… hell. When you put it like that. No body fucks with the Kings.”
Legend cuts him off with a sharp look. “But she’s also a member of this town.”
Oaks mutters, “Paradise loves her.”
Whiskey nods. “Not just Official. Hell, too. Everyone’s got a story about what the Reverend did to her. A twinkle in their eye when they imagine what she survived.”
Derby rubs his jaw. “Ain’t a single ol’ lady who wouldn’t take her in. Give her hot food, warm blankets, keys to the damn kingdom.”
“Which is exactly why none of y’all are lettin’ them near her,” Legend says. “They’ll get soft. They’ll let her out. They’ll give her rope we can’t afford to give. Enough to hang us all.”
“Becki Crowley ain’t some stray,” Vandal says quietly. “She’s… folk. Folks would riot if she goes missin’ again.”
“Exactly,” Legend growls.
“They expect y’all to keep her safe,” Wildcat adds. “You and Royal. You’re her kin.”
“Fuck that,” I say, under my breath.
“Reverend adopted us, yes. But we ain’t her brothers.
Not blood. Not nothin’. We weren’t raised with her.
We were brought up on the compound like cattle for God’s work.
” Legend spits the words like they’re venom.
“But the county? They watched that girl grow up bruised and cornered. They excuse every dumb thing she does because they know where she came from. Or more accurately, what she clawed her way out of.”
Derby shifts. “None of that matters. We made a deal with that crazy cult to protect her. Y’all forgetting how we stopped half the town from killin’ each other at Paradise Falls. Reverend called off his murderous flock to save his precious spawn. Royal promised to protect her.”
Silence again. This time it’s heavy with responsibility none of us want.
Rye shifts. “So… we don’t kill her.”
“No,” Legend answers like he’s relieved. “Not unless she becomes a bigger threat than the one, we’re already facing.”
My voice finally rises, low and steady. “She’s useful.”
Legend looks at me. Really looks.
“Useful how?” he asks.
“She knows things,” I say. “About Pearly Gates. About the missing girls.”
Rye frowns. “You really think the Reverend’s behind that?”
“Don’t matter. I think Becki can help us tie him to it,” I say. “Maybe end this shit once and for all.”
Legend’s expression doesn’t change, but the muscles there tighten. “Sherrif Dix has been breathing down our necks. But even if we cut the head off that snake, another will take its place.”
“Pleasant,” Derby remarks, speaking of one of the Reverend’s creepy companions.
Lex steps forward from the wall, arms crossed, voice calm but firm. “It’s not the people. It’s the leadership. The congregation ain’t the ones runnin’ girls or twisting scripture. It’s the Reverend and the ones he chooses.”
The brothers murmur agreement.
Legend sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “So we hold her. We keep her out of sight. We don’t hurt her unless she gives us no choice.”
Rye looks toward the exit. “What about movin’ her to her trailer? Safer. Less eyes.”
“No,” I snap.
Every head turns.
“Why?” Derby challenges.
Because she belongs where I can see her. Because someone might take her. Because someone might kill her before she talks. Because I need her close.
I choose the only answer that won’t get me killed or laughed out of the room.
“She’s safer here,” I say. “Trailer’s too easy to reach. Too easy to burn.”
Legend nods once. “She stays. Royal watches her. No one else goes near her.”
Oaks stiffens.
Rye whistles. “Damn. Our poet’s got a full-time job now.”
Whiskey grins. “Ain’t even gettin’ paid for babysittin’ a Crowley.”
Legend’s voice turns sharp again. “This is serious. She’s a Crowley, yes. She’s trouble, yes. But she’s also part of this community whether we like it or not.”
“And if she dies on our watch?” Whiskey murmurs.
Legend’s eyes turn dark. “Then Paradise County will burn the Kings of Anarchy to the ground.”
No one laughs after that.
Not even me.
Church breaks slow, like everyone’s afraid to move too fast around the truth we just kicked loose.
Boots scrape the old tile, chairs creak, brothers mutter in low voices about Pearly Gates and missing girls and how the hell Becki Crowley ended up locked in our clubhouse like a goddamn ghost we’re too scared to look at straight.
I stay seated.
I need the room empty.
Legend knows it.
He closes the door behind the last brother and leans back against it, arms crossed, jaw moving like he’s chewing a bullet.
I’m about to tell him about the old church basement, but he takes over.
“Royal.”
“Yeah.”
His eyes, sharp, unforgiving, pin me. “You’re the one who’s gonna keep her safe.”
My spine stiffens. “Already am.”
“Safe,” he repeats, voice heavier this time. “And locked up.”
“How long?” I ask.
Legend’s breath leaves him slow. “I don’t know.”
“That ain’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one I’ve got.” His boots click against the floor as he comes closer, stopping right in front of me.
His eyes darken with the kind of responsibility that crushes a man’s ribs.
“Until we figure out what the hell Crowley was doing. Until girls stop disappearing. Until we know Becki ain’t a threat or a target. ”
“So… forever,” I mutter.
Legend doesn’t smile. “Could be.”
It punches air from my lungs.
Because keeping Becki chained up forever? I won’t survive that. She won’t either. Legend studies my face like he sees every thought I’m trying damn hard to bury.
“You’re close to her,” he says quietly.
I don’t move. “No.”
He raises a brow. “You’re a shit liar.”
I grit my teeth. “I’m not close.”
“You’re drawn,” he corrects. “Same thing.”
The truth lands like a blade slipping between ribs.
Legend steps back, pacing once. “This thing with her? It ends now.”
My lips flatten. “There is no thing.”
“Good. Because you're with Joey.”
I freeze.
Legend stops pacing, looks over his shoulder at me. “You think I don’t know which bed you warm? I ain’t blind, Royal.”
“Then why bring up Becki?” I snap.
“Because Joey is a hell of a lot safer than whatever the fuck is happening between you and Crowley’s daughter.” He points at me, expression razor-sharp. “You don’t lay a finger on Becki. Not now. Not ever.”
“How am I supposed to protect her or punish her?”
“You’re right. Beat her if you have to. Hell, seduce her into submission if you must. But keep your dick out of her. That’s a fucking order.”
I swallow blood and words I can’t say.
Legend softens. Not much, but enough to show he ain’t trying to break me, just steer me. “Becki’s dangerous in a way she don’t even understand. She’s evil. Because she’s shaken ground. Because she’ll pull you under if you stand too close.”
“She ain’t evil,” I say, before I can stop myself.
Legend watches me a long moment.
“That right there,” he murmurs, “is why I’m tellin’ you. Don’t give in to her.”
He claps a hand on my shoulder, heavy, brother-solid, and leaves the room.
The door shuts behind him.
I don’t move.
Because for the first time since Becki showed up in my world dripping blood and trouble…
I’m not sure I can obey my president, my brother in every way.
The hallway feels too narrow. Too hot. Too full of Becki’s scent drifting from under my door like smoke from a fire I pretend I ain’t fanning with my own hands.
I can’t go in there again.
Not tonight.
Maybe not ever, if I choose to keep my sanity and my fucking patch.
Lex is in the common room folding donated blankets like he came out of the womb organized. Glasses perched low on his nose, Bible sitting close by even though he barely reads the damn thing anymore. He looks up when I approach.
He straightens, sensing something off in me. “She okay?”
“Yeah.”
I think.
“I need a favor.”
Lex raises a brow. “You don’t ask for favors.”
“I’m askin’ now.”
He sets the blankets down, giving me his full attention.
“Take her what she needs,” I say. “Food. Water. Clothes. Bathroom breaks. Let her shower. Whatever.”
Lex stares at me as I hand him the key to her chain. “You want me to watch her?”
“Just check on her. Keep her alive. I’ll make you a list.”
“And you?” he asks carefully.
“I’ll… keep my distance.”
Lex’s eyes narrow, understanding more than I want him to. “Because you’re too close to her.”
“No.” Too fast. Too sharp. My voice cracks like a gun misfiring. “Because she’s Crowley’s kid. Because she’s a problem.”
Lex tilts his head. “And you don’t trust yourself around her.”
My lips flatten. “Shut it.”
Squeezing the key between his fingers, he lifts both hands in surrender. Doesn’t drop his gaze. “I’ll help. But Royal… she’s not a demon. She’s a girl who grew up in Hell.”
I knew what he meant. Hell. Not here. In Hell, Kentucky.
That’s the thing.
Hell is where I live, now. What happens when she starts feelin’ like home?
I turn away. “Just take her the shit she needs.”
“Royal,” Lex calls softly. “Distance won’t fix anything if something’s already there.”
I don’t answer him.
Because the truth is simple.
Violent.
Dangerous.
If I go back into that room tonight… I won’t walk out without her blood on my hands. My name carved into her skin.
And maybe her heart.