“I know no more than you do right now,” King said to her.
For a few moments, Waverley was silent and had gone still. “Is that kid dead? It was the prospect, Itchy?”
King nodded. I’m not surprised by how drawn he looks. Losing a brother is never easy. I’d expected him to be raging at Waverley, or for her to be in his face, but it looked like they’re having a moment.
“I was just talking to him this morning,” she said, dropping into the chair. “How old was he?”
“Eighteen,” King replied, and Waverley’s shoulders dropped. King reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, I need to get downstairs and figure this shit out.”
“What are you gonna do?”
King’s lip tilted up. “Nice try, kid.”
“I have a right to know if this happened because of me.”
“This isn’t because of you,” King said, his brow furrowing. “But do you at least now understand why I want you here, protected?”
“I get why you think it’s safer for me here. But they just bombed the gates. Wouldn’t I be better off in North Carolina, away from where they can reach me?”
I should make myself known before King spotted me, but I wanted to know what he was going to say. Was Waverley right? Why did King think she needed to be up here?
He knew more than he was letting on to War right now. And I was beginning to wonder if this was a genuine attempt at the compound or if it was a test to see what we would do.
“Trust me, you’re right where you need to be.”
I took that moment to rap my knuckles on the door frame, acting as if I’ve just arrived. “Everyone is downstairs,” I told him.
King nodded. “I need you to do me a favour,” he said, helping Waverley out of her seat. “I don’t want to hear any complaints.”
“Sounds like you’re about to piss me off,” she folded her arms over her chest and glanced at me.
King looked at her in silence, and she arched a brow at him. I held in a breath, waiting for the inevitable blow up, but they both surprised me again. “I reckon Rosa will be busy taking control out there. We’re gonna need food.”
“You want me to cook for you?” she half laughed.
“We need to pull together right now. It’s what we do.”
“You know I can’t cook, right?”
King smirked. “Connor can help. That boy should have been a chef.”
“No,” she said, her arms dropping, causing both King and I to look at her in confusion at her harsh tone. “He might have a brain injury, but he is part of the MC. This thing with the Kingsmen affected him. He’s the one who suffered from their attack. He’s already lost enough because of that, you can’t shut him out.”
“Don’t think because I’m giving you some leeway, you can tell me what to do, Waverley.”
There was the King I knew and respected. His face had hardened.
“He’s a brother, isn’t he?” Waverley pushed.
“Connor’s here because I allow it. He has no say in anything that happens here anymore. He can’t ride. This is a motorcycle club, one of the biggest rules of this, and any other motorcycle club is being able to ride. I should have pulled his patch.”
“Are you serious?” Waverley was shocked. But those were the laws of the club.
War had spoken with King privately about maintaining Connor’s patch. It was only by King’s agreement Connor was even still here. Not to mention he’d grown up in the club and was family.
However, what he could bring to the club now was little more than what a prospect brought. King would never disrespect him by treating him like that. Instead, they allowed him to stay. King had put it to a vote at the officers’ meeting and it had been agreed unanimously, without Connor knowing it had even been up for discussion, but Waverley didn’t know all that.
“You’re not just any motorcycle club, dad,” she mumbled, not realizing King didn’t need convincing, but he wasn’t about to give her any explanations about his decisions for the club. “He’s family. You can’t do that to him.”
