Scepticism creased Locke’s face, but he kept his opinions to himself and stepped back, leaving me at the mercy of the inquisition barrelling towards me.
Rubi reached me first and poked my chest with a finger as inked as the rest of him. “Oi, Rambo. We’ve talked about scrapping in front of the kids before. It ain’t fucking on.”
“Easy.” Nash caught up with him and knocked Rubi’s massive arm aside. “That shit was months ago, and it was my fault. Let him speak before you condemn him.”
I eyed the limp holding Nash up. “Stub your toe?”
Nash gave me a mellow grin. “Fuck off. And explain yourself before the grapevine goes fucking nuts and half the Doherty clan come down here wanting blood because you decked their patriarch.”
Doherty. The name meant nothing to me. I hadn’t been around for a while, and even when I’d spent endless months kipping in the bunkhouse, I’d taken little to zero notice of any King I wasn’t riding with. Cos I was done making friends that I didn’t get to keep. “He’s a dick,” I said to fill the weighted silence.
Nash’s fair brow ticked up. “That’s a given. But he’s an old timer with three sons who’ve been in the club since they were kids. This isn’t going to blow over.”
I shrugged, not giving a fuck.
Folk came closer, approaching me with a stare that crumbled every guard I had, flaying my soul wide open. “What did he say? Before you jumped him?”
“Nothing.”
“Then what did you see that I didn’t from the other side of the yard?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.” Folk stopped in front of me. “You want to talk in private?”
“No.”
Folk’s stare intensified. “Who are you trying to protect?”
You. Cos I knew him. He was the calmest, most level-headed bloke I’d ever met, but Decoy was his whole world and Ivy was their kid. If I told him that Doherty scumbag had raised a hand to his pretty little girl... nah, it would be a massacre, and my brother didn’t need more blood on his hands. He needed peace—he’d fucking earned it—and I’d wage every war on earth to make sure he got it. “I’m protecting myself. In case dickhead round there is your new best friend.”
Irritation flared in Folk’s deep blue gaze, the same emotion he’d sent my way when he’d caught me banging his sister and lying about it. When he’d been trapped between resignation and the urge to throttle me. “I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me.”
“I don’t need fucking help.”
Folk gave me his best disappointed-dad frown and walked away.
Rubi called after him. “Take the kids home. It’s gonna get lairy tonight.”
Folk kept walking and I felt bad for pissing him off, but I’d have felt worse if he’d found himself compelled to finish what I’d started. Cos that’s where this was going. A good old-fashioned biker brawl, and I was here for it.
On cue, the night lit up with the sound of incoming bikes. Lots of them.
Nash sighed. “That’s our evening fucked. Go to the bunkhouse and get your shit together. I’ll find you when it’s time.”
He shuffled away, moving slowly on his bad leg.
Locke stayed with me, but every part of him that mattered followed his fella into the night.
“You can go.” I discarded the crushed rollie I found in my fist, ignoring the scorch mark on my palm. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
Locke dragged his pretty gaze away from Nash’s retreating back. “Coulda fooled me. You’ve been here less than a day and you’re already tearing the place up.”
“He deserved it.”
“I believe you, but I don’t get why you wouldn’t give it up to Folk. He’s got your back more than anyone.”
“I don’t need him to have my back.” I fished my baccy out of my pocket and rolled a fresh smoke. “It’s not like he’s never twatted anyone for no good reason.”
