“I’ll call you.” I smiled at how furious he sounded.
“Damned right. Okay. I have shit to do. Gotta rustle me up a new prospect somewhere who knows how to detail a bike. Fuck.”
I laughed, and he hung up on me, exactly as I’d expected him to do. King was so predictable, or at least he was to me. In a lot of ways, the best ones, he’d beenhomefor the first time in my life. The club was the first time anyone really seemed to give a fuck about me.
I checked my watch. I wasn’t used to wearing the timepiece, but Jamie insisted that if I was going to help him, I had to have a way to always be punctual. According to Corbin, Mr. Killough hated lateness almost more than liars. I didn’t know what all the fuss was about, though. He was always very polite to me the times I’d met him. “We’re going to be late to meet Tadgh if you don’t hurry!” I called after Jamie.
“Aye, but it’s only for a drink and hand of poker, so he’ll be late,” Jamie yelled back.
Shrugging, I headed outside into the morning sunshine. Grant hadn’t left yet. I was confused because he was standing with his arms crossed next to Reaper’s bike, and neither one of them seemed like they were getting on it. Corbin sat in a lawn chair nearby, reading the newspaper.
“Are you my bodyguard now?” Grant asked him.
Corbin flipped the pages of the paper. “No. I’m making sure this chair stays on the ground in case gravity acts up. That’s my job.” He shook his head. “Me, a mere bodyguard? Insulting.”
“What’s going on? Problems? Jamie has tools in the garage. I’ll help.” I strolled over but no one answered me. Grant looked like he wanted to laugh but was trying to keep himself serious. Reaper just shook his head at us.
The sound of motorcycles turning into the driveway shocked me. In spite of what he’d said, Corbin was on his feet in a flash with his gun at his side.
“Get in the house,” he snapped, but I ignored him because the front riders had turned the corner in the lane that only led to Jamie’s house, and I recognized Dallas and King in the lead. Laughing, I crossed my arms and stood there as a parade of at least thirty bikes pulled around in front of us. It wasn’t the entire club, but if I had to guess, it was about half of the most active guys. Jamie came running out of the house with his gun out, and King pointed at him and laughed while several were drawn and aimed at him from the bikes.
“Everyone put ’em down,” King bellowed, but he was still beaming.
“Ya aren’t taking him back!” Jamie said, and he still had his gun aimed sort of in the general direction of the Kings. I’d never seen him so furious—his face a blazing red.
King climbed off his bike from behind Dallas, who was driving, and kicked down the stand before he steadied the bike for his boyfriend to climb off. “No shit. He talked to me and said he wasn’t coming home.”
Jamie looked at me, and I shrugged.
“Five minutes ago.”
King straightened. “He’s my son, isn’t he? Like fuck I need to ask to come visit. I knew he was thinking of staying, or he’d have been blowing up my phone bellyaching to come home.”
Dallas smacked King’s arm. “He doesn’t complain.”
King shrugged. “Grant said he thought you weren’t coming home.”
I nodded because that made sense.
“Well, aye, you’re always welcome.” Jamie glanced down at his gun and then handed it off to Corbin, who only sighed and rolled his eyes at us before he snapped his paper open and went back to reading it.
King came toward me, and there was a moment where, deep inside, I still felt slightly awkward. I’d pinned so many of my hopes and dreams on him, on the club, and I still had him, just in an extremely different way than I’d ever imagined—as myfather. He came up to me and opened his arms. I didn’t hesitate to step into his embrace. He rested his cheek on the top of my head, and I gave in and hugged him for all I was worth. When we parted, I looked at the tips of my boots and was sure my face would melt into a puddle because it was so hot. Dallas stepped around King and gave me a hug, too, but I couldn’t make my arms move to hug him back, just stood there and took it until he moved away.
“Hey, Aaron, here it is,” Undertaker said. I glanced up at him, and he was in full makeup, wearing all black. Cool wind bit at my cheeks, but the weather had been mild compared to how cold New Gothenburg could get, and he wasn’t dressed very warmly. I could see his metal-studded nipples through his thin shirt. Lee, tall and muscled, was at his back, holding something black and made of leather. King snatched it from him and tossed it at me.
“There you go, Irish Rose.”
I glared at him, and he began to snicker. “What?”
“You weren’t there, so we picked your name for you.”
“My… my name? But I’m not a prospect anymore.” I held up the jacket and stared down at the back. In the middle was the Kings’ patch, the skull and crown, and above it was the Kings of Men rocker, but underneath was something I’d never seen. I brushed my thumb over the wordsNew York City.
“There’s no New York City chapter,” I said stupidly.
“There is now, and we’re here to party, so you better have booze, Shannon,” he said and pumped a fist into the air. “We haven’t ever opened a new chapter, so we’re going to celebrate!” There was a roar of approval. My face boiled with heat as everyone began to clap and whistle and hoot and rev their bikes until I slipped the black leather jacket on. It fit perfectly. King stepped forward and puffed up with pride as he zipped the jacket up for me and moved it around like he was checking to make sure it was sized right.
“So does that make me Chapter President?”
