Chapter Seven
Jag
I knocked on Knight’s open office door, rapping twice on the wooden frame.
He looked up from his computer, his face tight with barely controlled anger.
His jaw muscle ticked in that way told me he was pissed about something.
Fucking pissed. I stepped inside anyway, closing the door behind me with a soft click.
The air felt charged, like the calm before a storm broke.
“You wanted to see me?” I kept my voice neutral, refusing to start this conversation on the defensive.
Knight leaned back in his chair, the springs creaking under his weight. His fingers drummed once, twice on the scarred wood of his desk before he spoke.
“You stayed at Ada’s last night.” Not a question. A statement loaded with accusation.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. What could I say? Yeah, I spent the night with your baby sister? Yeah, I made her come so hard she screamed my name? Yeah, I plan on doing it again tonight? And every night for the rest of my fucking life? Somehow, I didn’t think I had the right words.
“You don’t have to sleep with my sister to protect her, Jag.” His voice was low, controlled, but the words hit like a sucker punch.
My shoulders stiffened. “That what you think this is?”
“I think you see a woman in danger and your first instinct is to stake your claim, make sure everyone knows she’s yours so everyone else stays away.”
“And that’s a problem?” I challenged, heat rising in my chest.
“It is when it’s my sister.”
I took a step forward, hands clenched at my sides. “Ada’s a grown woman who makes her own choices.”
Knight’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t understand what she’s getting into with someone like --”
The door swung open, cutting off whatever Knight had been about to say. Knuckles walked in, Gunnar close behind him, both men reading the tension in the room instantly.
“Did we interrupt something?” Knuckles asked, his expression calculating, almost challenging as his gaze flicked between Knight and me.
Knight didn’t miss a beat. “I’m pissed because Jag is fucking my sister.” He didn’t raise his voice but managed to look and sound all the deadlier because of the soft, controlled tone of voice. Or, it could have been those freaky, tattooed eyes of his.
I shrugged, my leather cut creaking with the movement, but my jaw tightened with discomfort.
This wasn’t how I wanted things to play out.
Last night with Ada had been something beyond anything I’d experienced before.
Having it reduced to “fucking” felt wrong, but I wasn’t about to bare my soul in front of these men.
I didn’t owe them because they hadn’t earned it yet.
Except maybe Knuckles, but if he wanted to talk to me about it he could damned well do it away from anyone else.
Knuckles’ gaze moved to me, assessing. The man missed nothing. “Was it her choice?”
“Ask her yourself,” I replied, meeting his gaze. “Knight won’t believe anything I say anyway.”
Something shifted in Knuckles’ expression. He turned to Knight, his voice deceptively casual. “You think Ada would still be living in the compound if someone in the club had raped her? Or would she be raising hell and getting the fuck out?”
Knight blinked, his expression shifting from anger to surprise. I could see the moment the question penetrated his anger, forcing him to consider what he knew about his sister.
“She wouldn’t stay quiet,” Knight admitted reluctantly. “She’d burn this place to the ground.”
“So what’s the real reason you’re pissed?” Knuckles pressed, leaning against the wall. “Because if you’re worried about Jag’s intentions, I can tell you right now, most men have shitty intentions toward women until the right woman makes them get their shit together.”
The office went silent. I could hear the hum of the air conditioning, the distant sound of motorcycles starting up in the yard. All the while, Knight’s face worked through a series of emotions I couldn’t quite read.
“I’m upset because he’s fucking my baby sister!” Knight finally burst out, slapping a hand on his desk. It was the most emotion I’d seen from the guy.
Knuckles snorted a laugh, pointing at Gunnar. “And he’s fucking my daughter. Do you see us at each other’s throats?”
Gunnar choked, a laugh escaping him before he could stop it. The tension in the room cracked like ice in spring, sudden and unexpected.
Knight gave Knuckles an exasperated look. “She’s my baby sister,” Knight repeated, but his shoulders had finally relaxed, the rigid set of his spine loosening. “Twelve years younger. I practically raised her after our mom checked out.”
“And I respect that,” I said, finding my voice again. “But what’s between Ada and me… It’s not what you think.”
Knight ran a hand over his face, suddenly looking tired. “What is it then? Because I love my sister and will not have her passed around the club like one of the club girls.”
I took a deep breath. “She’s my woman.” The silence that followed felt contemplative rather than hostile. “She deserves better than someone like me,” I admitted. “But I swear to you, I only want her to be happy. Whatever that looks like.”
Knight studied me for a long moment before standing and extending his hand across the desk. “I’m sorry. It was reflex.”
I took his hand, his grip firm as we shook. “I get it. If I had family, I’d protect them too.”
“You do have family,” Knight said, surprising me. “Right here in this club.”
I nodded, a strange thickness in my throat. Knight released my hand and sat back down, a silent dismissal.
As I turned to leave, Knuckles fell into step beside me. “You’re different with her,” he observed quietly once we were in the hallway.
“Don’t know what you mean.” I kept my gaze forward.
“Yeah, you do.” Knuckles clapped me on the shoulder.
“Women who really want to stick with us don’t come around twice in a lifetime.
Ada didn’t abandon Knight when he went inside.
She’s not going to be easily scared off, but she won’t put up with bullshit.
Don’t fuck it up.” Knuckles clapped me on the back.
His words echoed in my head. Don’t fuck it up. As if I needed the reminder. The weight of Ada’s trust in me felt heavier than when they’d handed down my sentence. For the first time in my life, I was terrified of failing.
“Come on,” Knuckles said. “I’ve called church. We’re meeting in the common room. It concerns Ada, so you can get a head start.”
By the time we got there, brothers were already filing into the room. I took a seat in the corner with my back to the wall.
Knuckles stood at the front of the room, his massive frame commanding attention without effort.
Knight took a spot beside him, his posture rigid, all business.
The tension from earlier seemed to have dissolved, or at least been set aside for now.
I noticed Gunnar wasn’t far away, though he didn’t seem to be actively involved in whatever Knuckles prepared to tell us.
My thoughts drifted to Ada. The memory of her body pressed against mine last night sent heat through my veins, a distraction I couldn’t afford right now.
I forced my attention back away. I thought about her too much, and the fact I wasn’t with her right now, and I might blow church to go find her.
And that was a first for me. The club had been my life once upon a time.
Seemed I had something else to occupy my time now.
Before Knuckles could speak, Gunnar rose from his chair. The room went quiet, waiting. I didn’t know this guy well. He’d been in Terre Haute while I was there, but I might have been in AdSeg. Also, I thought Gunnar had spent some time in the medium security prison across campus.
“Before we get started,” Gunnar said, his voice carrying across the room without him having to raise it, “I’ve been thinking about this shit with Rat Man.” He looked directly at Knuckles. “I can’t keep my brothers out of this fight. It ain’t right.”
Knuckles nodded without hesitation. “Agreed,” he said simply.
Gunnar raised his brows, surprise on his features. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Knuckles confirmed. “You’re right. Ice and Cyclone were hurt directly by Rat Man and fuckin’ Slash. Suzie too. You should also talk to Stunner.”
A smile transformed Gunnar’s face, making him look younger, less burdened.
“I consider Stunner one of my brothers too,” he said, his voice warm with genuine affection.
He sat back down, and the mood in the room shifted.
Whatever Knuckles had called church for, it wasn’t about Rat man. Or not only about Rat Man.
Knuckles shifted to take a seat next to Gunnar and the room fell silent again, all eyes locked on him.
“That brings me to the real reason I called church today,” he said, his voice steady and certain.
“Since I returned, we’ve been operating with a vacant VP spot.
” He paused, letting the words settle. “It’s time to fill it. ”
Several of the guys shifted in their seats, most of them grinning. A VP nomination was serious business, I thought, but either these guys all thought they were going to be VP or they knew they weren’t and were looking forward to whatever poor bastard got that position.
“It’s ultimately the club’s decision,” Knuckles continued, “but I want my nomination to be heavily considered.” He pointed to Gunnar. “I nominate Gunnar for the position of Vice President of Kiss of Death MC. Any objections?”
“As long as it ain’t me,” someone yelled from across the room. Which set everyone to laughing. So. I was right the second time.
Knight watched with pride as the guys surrounded Gunnar. Gunnar looked like he wanted to throttle someone but was also resigned to his fate. Wasn’t long before they had him smiling same as the rest of them.
Knuckles had to yell to be heard over the noise. ”Then we’ll call it done.” There was more applause and someone handed Gunnar a new cut, taking his old one and swapping them out.
When everyone finally settled down, Knuckles continued.
“We’re heading into a storm with Rat Man.
We need leadership that’s solid. Unquestionable.
” His eyes locked with Gunnar’s. “I ain’t sayin’ I trust him more than anyone else.
None of you would be here if I didn’t trust you.
” His gaze landed on me for a brief moment.
“But the man is literally my son-in-law.” That got more laughs.
“And he’s a damned fine leader.” Everyone agreed loudly.
As church wrapped up and brothers began to filter out, their voices a low rumble of conversation, I caught Knuckles watching me. He gave me a slight nod in acknowledgment.
I returned the nod and pushed up from my chair.
Whatever was coming with Rat Man, one thing was clear.
The club was evolving. This wasn’t the Kiss of Death I’d gone to jail for nearly four decades ago.
The club was now filled with good people.
And they were preparing for war. Despite looming on the horizon, I felt something I hadn’t in years.
A sense of belonging and purpose beyond merely surviving.
As I stepped out into the compound yard, the afternoon sun warm on my face, I found myself thinking of Ada again.
I’d taken the fall for Rat Man. Not because I believed in the club.
Kiss of Death MC back then needed to be buried.
I’d gone to prison because I’d been scared not to.
Now, having found someone I would do anything for, I realized I didn’t care what happened to me.
I would eliminate the threat -- any threat -- to Ada.
Whatever consequences I had to pay would be more than worth any transgression I committed to save her.
The thought terrified and exhilarated me in equal measure.
Because if you had something you’d do anything for, someone was likely to test you. Just to see if you’re serious.