Chapter Five #3
The whole room seems to groan without making a sound.
Sophie closes her eyes.
Legend says, “Stop apologizing.”
Amelia flinches.
His jaw tightens because he sees it. “I mean, you didn’t bring him here on purpose.”
“No, but he followed me. He’s your problem now.”
“He was my problem the second he stood at my gate.”
“Because of who my father might be.”
“Because of who you are.”
She doesn’t know what to do with that.
Neither does Legend.
The moment hangs awkward and raw until Oaks comes in, rain dripping from his beard.
“He’s gone,” Oaks says. “For now.”
“For now,” Amelia repeats.
Oaks looks at her. Something in his expression gentles in the smallest possible way. “He ain’t getting through that gate.”
“You don’t know him.”
“No,” Oaks says. “He don’t know us either.”
Royal slides in behind him like he materialized from the night itself. “He will learn.”
Amelia turns toward him, and I see her actually process what that means.
The violence in the room.
The willingness.
The lack of hesitation.
Her fear shifts shape.
Not fear of Jeremy now.
Fear of us.
She steps back.
There it is.
The thing I knew would happen.
The outlaw kingdom that looked like refuge five minutes ago now looks like another beast with teeth.
Legend catches it too. “Amelia.”
Her hand goes to her throat. “What does that mean?”
Royal is quiet.
Too quiet.
Whiskey answers from the table, saving all of us from Royal’s poetry murder routine. “It means we gather information.”
Oaks snorts. “Sometimes.”
Sophie shoots him a look.
He lifts both hands. “What? I said sometimes.”
Amelia looks from one man to the other. “You’re going to hurt him.”
Nobody answers fast enough.
Her face goes paler. “Oh my God.”
Legend steps forward. “He hurt you. Man will bleed for it.”
“Bleed to death,” I whisper.
Amelia hears me.
Of course she hears me.
“That doesn’t mean you get to kill him.”
Oaks mutters, “Would solve a few things.”
She wraps both arms around herself tighter. “No.”
The word is sharp.
Everyone stills.
“No,” she says again. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t want that. I don’t want him dead.”
Derby, shut up.
I don’t.
“He should’ve thought of that before he put hands on you.”
Her eyes snap to mine.
Fire there now. Good. Better than fear. I can work with fire.
“You don’t get to decide that,” she says.
“No, ma’am.”
The ma’am slips out before I can stop it.
Sophie’s mouth twitches.
Amelia looks thrown by it, but only for a second.
“He’s August’s father,” she says. “And yes, I know what he is. I know better than anyone in this room what he is. But my son is five. I’m not making his father disappear and spending the rest of my life wondering what that does to him.
I’m not starting over with blood on my hands.
I’m not escaping one nightmare by owing men a body. ”
The clubhouse goes dead quiet.
Even Royal looks impressed.
Legend studies her for a long moment.
Then he nods. “All right.”
She blinks. “All right?”
“No one kills him without your say.”
“Without my say?” Her voice rises. “I’m saying no.”
“Then no.”
Oaks shifts. “Prez.”
Legend’s gaze cuts to him.
Oaks shuts up.
Good survival instinct.
Amelia looks suspicious again. “You mean that?”
Legend’s voice is steady. “Yes.”
Sophie steps closer to Amelia. “He means it.”
Amelia breathes out shakily.
I don’t like it.
Not because I’m bloodthirsty.
Fine. Not only because I’m bloodthirsty.
I don’t like it because leaving Jeremy alive means he gets more chances. Men like that don’t walk away ashamed. They walk away planning. He’ll use cops. Judges. Church friends. Money. Her fear. The kid. Anything he can reach.
Whiskey taps a pen against the table. “Then we need a different way to keep him off balance.”
Legend looks at him. “Talk.”
“Vale needs narrative control. He’s building the concerned-husband version already. Wife unstable. Child taken. Motorcycle club interference. If he comes back with law, he’ll push that angle.”
Amelia sinks into a chair like her knees finally give up. “He’s good at that.”
“I noticed,” Whiskey says. “So we give him a story he hates more.”
My stomach tightens.
Because I know where this is going.
Sophie knows too. She glances at me.
“Don’t look at me like that, rich girl.”
Legend’s gaze lands on me.
Hell.
Amelia looks between us. “What?”
Whiskey sets his pen down. “Derby already started it.”
“I didn’t start anything,” I say.
Oaks laughs. “Brother, you announced yourself as the man she came to in front of God, the club, and her husband.”
“He asked.”
Royal smiles. “A tragic ambush. How could you resist?”
I point at him. “You can shut up in poetry or regular. Dealer’s choice.”
Amelia stands again. “I don’t understand.”
Sophie’s voice is gentle. “Jeremy respects male possession more than female choice.”
The words hit Amelia hard.
Her mouth tightens because she knows it’s true.
Sophie continues. “He may not believe you left because you wanted to. But if he believes you left for another man, especially a man he can’t intimidate, he will react differently.”
“Worse,” Amelia says.
“Probably,” Whiskey says. “But less carefully.”
Legend nods. “He exposes himself.”
“To who?” she asks. “You? He already did.”
“To people who need proof,” Whiskey says. “Law. Courts. His business partners. Whoever he’s moving money for. Men like Vale do stupid things when their pride gets hit.”
Amelia slowly turns toward me.
I brace.
“You,” she says.
I lift both hands. “Apparently.”
“You want me to pretend you’re my boyfriend.”
“No,” I say.
The room pauses.
I look at Legend. “I don’t want that.”
Sophie’s eyes narrow, but she says nothing.
I look back at Amelia. “Want ain’t the word. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. Your kid looked at me like I know where dinosaurs come from. Your husband wears shoes that make me want to commit crimes. And I’m not, under any circumstance, driving a minivan.”
Amelia stares at me.
Then, God help us both, she laughs.
It ain’t big.
It ain’t steady.
But it’s there.
Sophie smiles.
Legend looks annoyed because I made a joke during strategy, which means I’m improving the mood and irritating my president at the same time. A rare talent.
I keep going before anyone thinks this is soft.
“But if pretending I’m the mean biker bastard in your life keeps him from thinking you’re alone, then fine. I’ll play it.”
Amelia’s laugh dies.
Her eyes search my face. “Why?”
Because I saw your kid ask about locks.
Because you stood beside me in the rain even though your whole body wanted to run.
Because your husband looked at you like you were something he misplaced, and I wanted to break his jaw through the gate.
Because the thought of you going back there makes my hands want to commit murder.
I say none of that.
I shrug. “I’m already involved.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“It’s around here.”
“No, it isn’t.” She steps closer to me, eyes bright. “Not for this. Not for pretending to be with me. Not for putting yourself between me and Jeremy. You don’t owe me that.”
“She’s right,” Sophie says quietly.
Traitor.
Legend watches me.
All of them do.
I hate this.
I hate feelings and eye contact and whatever the hell my chest is doing.
“My mother had men,” I say before I can decide not to. “Too many. Some useless. Some mean. Some mean and useless, which is a special kind of talent.”
The room shifts.
Not much.
Enough that I know I should stop.
I don’t.
“I know what it looks like when a woman has to make a kid believe a locked door is enough. I know what it feels like being the kid listening to a man outside that door. So no, Amelia, I don’t owe you. But I owe somebody. Might as well be tonight.”
The words sit there.
Ugly.
True.
Too much.
Amelia’s face changes.
Not pity. Thank Christ.
Something worse.
Understanding.
I look away first.
Oaks clears his throat. “Well, hell.”
“Say one sentimental thing and I’ll knock your teeth out,” I tell him.
He grins. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Liar.”
Legend finally speaks. “Rules.”
I look at him.
He looks at Amelia. “This only happens if you agree.”
She nods slowly. “I know.”
“No,” he says. “You need to hear it. Nobody in this room decides your life for you. Not him. Not me. Not Derby.”
Her eyes flick to me.
I keep still.
Legend continues. “If you say no, we find another way. If you say yes, you still choose what that means.”
Amelia’s gaze drops to the table. “What would it mean?”
Whiskey answers first because strategy is easier for him than emotion.
“Publicly, Derby is the man you came to. Privately, we build enough proof on Vale to keep him from using August as leverage. You don’t go anywhere alone for now.
Derby is your visible guard. If Vale sends law, Derby’s presence complicates the abandoned-wife narrative. ”
Sophie adds, “It doesn’t mean Derby gets to touch you whenever he wants.”
Amelia blushes.
I scowl. “I know that.”
“Good,” Sophie says. “Then say it.”
I stare at her. “What?”
“Say it.”
I look at Legend for help.
He looks amused now, the bastard.
There is no brotherhood in this clubhouse.
I face Amelia. Her cheeks are pink, but her eyes are serious. Scared, yes, but listening.
Fine.
“No touching unless you say,” I say.
Her lips part slightly.
The room goes quiet.
I hate every man in it.
“No kissing unless you say,” I continue, voice rougher now.
“No bedroom bullshit unless you invite it, and I ain’t assuming invitation because we’re pretending in front of people.
Around your kid, nothing he has to untangle later.
I don’t use him to sell the lie. I don’t sleep in your room.
Door locks. I stay out unless you open it or there’s blood, fire, or that polished prick trying to crawl through a window. ”
Amelia’s eyes shine.
Damn it.
I didn’t mean to make her cry again.
“And if I want it to stop?” she asks.
“Then it stops.”
“Even if it messes up the plan?”
“Yes.”
Legend says, “Yes.”
Sophie says, “Yes.”
Whiskey nods.