Chapter 24
Royal
The door ain’t fully closed.
That’s the first mistake.
I realize it half a second before Becki’s fingers hook the front of my shirt, dragging me back inside like she didn’t hear a single word I said about stopping.
Her breath hits my mouth first, ragged, reckless, wanting. Then her body presses into mine, hips first, chest second, her heartbeat slamming hard enough I feel it in my teeth.
“Lock it,” she whispers.
I don’t.
I can’t.
Some part of me wants someone to walk in, to see what she does to me, to put an end to this spiral before it eats us both alive.
“Royal,” she murmurs again, softer, dangerous. “Look at me.”
I do.
Her wild eyes are dilated. Her plump lips bruised by me. Her hands trembling where they fist in my shirt, not from fear, but from wanting me to break first.
She tips her chin up.
A dare.
A challenge.
A goddamn promise.
My hand comes up to her throat without me deciding it. Squeezing. Just… claiming the air she breathes. Her pulse rips against my palm, frantic and hot.
“You’re playing a game you don’t understand,” I rasp.
“Then teach me.” She rises on her toes, lips brushing mine again and the door slams back against the wall.
I spin, pulling her behind me out of instinct.
Oaks fills the doorway, chest heaving, eyes wide like he walked in on a crime scene.
“What the fucking hell…” he starts.
But then his gaze drops.
Sees Becki’s swollen mouth. Sees my hand still half around her throat. Sees the way she’s breathless and trembling and pressed into me like she belongs there.
His jaw pops.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, man,” Oaks growls, stepping inside. “Legend just found another girl’s bracelet in that damn church basement and you’re in here…”
He gestures between us, choked and furious.
I don’t move. Becki doesn’t hide.
Oaks’s stare snaps to her. “You playing both sides… for easy pussy?”
My body moves before thought.
I shove Oaks back so hard he hits the opposite wall, skull thudding loud enough Becki flinches behind me.
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth,” I snarl.
“Watch your priorities,” Oaks spits back, shoving me off and coming forward again, eyes darting. “You’re losing your damn head over a girl who damn near delivered the club to the Reverend!”
He tries to push past me to get to her.
I block him.
Hard.
Oaks slams a fist into my ribs. I take it. I shove him again, and he snatches my cut, yanking me in.
“This is how secrets get brothers killed,” he hisses. “You think you can protect her and run ops at the same time? Hell no. You’re compromised. And Legend’s gonna see it.”
He tries to look past me again, trying to get another look at Becki. I recognize it in his eyes. It’s not just lust. Brother would kill her in a heartbeat. If given the order. She’s the enemy in his eyes.
Something in me breaks.
I pin him to the wall with my forearm across his chest, teeth bared.
“You look at her one more time,” I say quietly. “And I’ll put you in the ground.”
Oaks stares back, stunned for half a second.
Then he laughs.
Not because it’s funny.
Because he’s terrified of what he’s seeing.
“Christ,” he whispers. “You’re already gone.”
Footsteps pound down the hall.
Whiskey.
Legend.
The second they appear, Becki slips farther behind me, breath shaking against my spine.
Legend stops dead in the doorway.
Takes in the scene.
Oaks in the wall. Me pinning him. Becki behind me, marked by the heat of my hands.
Legend’s voice goes cold. “Royal. Let. Him. Go.”
I step back, slow, refusing to look away first.
Oaks shoves off the wall, wipes blood from his lip, and glares at me like I’m the crack forming under the foundation of this club.
“He’s losing control,” Oaks tells Legend, jerking his thumb at me. “And she’s the reason.”
Becki’s breath hitches.
Legend looks at me for a long, dangerous second.
“Royal,” he says finally, voice a razor. “Outside. Now.”
Becki grabs my sleeve, just a little, just enough for them to see.
And that, that makes everything worse.
Legend’s eyes darken.
“Get your damn hands off her,” he snaps.
I don’t.
Can’t. As I realize I’m holding her too.
Not with Oaks staring at her like prey. Not with Whiskey smelling her fear. Not with Legend looking at her like she’s a ghost risen from his past.
“Royal.” His tone means business.
Becki’s fingers curl tighter in the fabric at my wrist. Not begging to stay. Not afraid of punishment.
Claiming me.
My voice, when it comes, is low, lethal. “She stays behind me.”
Legend steps closer. “We’re not arguing about her protection. We’re arguing about you.”
Silence falls.
Party noise echoes from down the hall, shouting, music, the thump of boots. Loud enough no one else knows what’s happening in this room.
But the four of us do.
Oaks wipes his mouth again, smearing the blood. “I’m telling you right now. This ends bad.”
Whiskey mutters, “No shit.”
Legend’s eyes cut between me and Becki, calculating. “You two,” he finally says. “Are gonna tear this clubhouse in half.”
Becki steps forward, voice ragged, furious, trembling at the edges. “Then maybe it deserves tearing.”
The room freezes. Legend looks like she slapped him. Whiskey swears under his breath.
Oaks shakes his head, muttering, “We’re screwed.”
And I look at Becki. Her hair wild. Her lips bruised.
Her eyes bright and burning. Like sin. Like salvation. Like the storm I was always meant to walk into.
Something dark and tender rips right through me.
I step between her and all of them.
“Get out,” I tell the room. “All of you.”
Legend’s jaw flexes. “Royal!” he barks.
“Get. Out.” My voice cracks the air like a knife.
Legend’s fists clinch like there’s about to be blows.
“You ordered me to protect her,” I argue.
“That’s not all.”
“Yeah, but you don’t get a say. If I’m supposed to protect her, I need to protect her from you, from the Kings. And you damn well know it.”
Legend stares hard, then jerks his head. Oaks leaves first, shoving past Whiskey. Whiskey follows, muttering something about this being the start of our downfall.
Legend lingers in the doorway.
“You’re playing with fire,” he warns softly. “And if she burns you, I won’t put you out.”
Then he disappears into the hall. The door closes. Silence drops.
Becki steps closer, chin lifted in defiance and desire, trembling but unbroken.
“That was stupid,” she whispers.
I move into her space, forehead nearly touching hers.
“No,” I murmur. “That was a promise.”
Her breath stops. Mine does too. And the storm between us finally breaks.