“I’m a weird guy,” he admitted. That was a fair assessment. Wade stepped inside, carrying a paper bag that smelled suspiciously like burgers and bad decisions.
“Why are you here? It’s the middle of the night,” she said.
“Club business.” He paused dramatically. “And because Butcher hung up on me earlier like a little bitch, I thought that I’d come to see him. He can’t hang up on me this way.” That sounded accurate, although she wanted to point out that Butcher could still beat the hell out of him.
Princess closed the door behind him quietly. “He’s asleep.”
Wade snorted. “Bullshit.” Sure enough, heavy footsteps sounded from the hallway a second later. Butcher appeared shirtless and irritated, tattoos stretching across broad shoulders while sleep still lingered in his eyes.
Princess’s entire train of thought derailed immediately, and damn if Wade didn’t seem to notice. “Oh my God,” he muttered. “You two are disgustingly into each other.”
Butcher flipped him off automatically. “What do you want?” he asked.
Wade tossed the paper bag onto the counter. “I brought food. Also, the guys agreed on the club’s name.” That got Butcher’s attention immediately.
“I thought that we already agreed on Savage Bastards,” Butcher reminded.
Princess crossed her arms. “Oh, this should be terrible.”
Wade looked offended. “It’s a badass name, actually. The guys wanted to give you options,” he said to Butcher. “You know, in case you change your mind about Savage Bastards.’
“Doubtful, but I’ll hear it,” Butcher muttered.
Wade grinned slowly. “Royal Bastards, Mississippi.” Silence filled the room. Princess looked toward Butcher automatically and couldn’t stop herself from laughing.
Butcher rubbed a hand over his jaw roughly. “Jesus Christ.”
“That’s a yes,” Wade announced triumphantly.
Princess watched Butcher carefully as he shook his head. “That’s a no,” he growled. “What happened to Savage Bastards?” he asked.
“You don’t like it?” Wade asked.
“No, I don’t like it, and I’m betting that the rest of the guys had nothing to do with wanting to change the name. This sounds like you, Wade,” Butcher said. Butcher looked deeply unimpressed, and Princess smiled faintly despite herself.
“Listen, if you like the name Savage Bastards, then we’ll keep it,” Wade insisted. “I was just brainstorming and thought that maybe we should take a vote or something.”
“You were all for the name Savage Bastards earlier,” Butcher reminded.
“Yeah,” Wade agreed, “I just wanted to feel like I have a say in all this.”
“The club was your fucking idea,” Butcher said. “You have a big say in everything we do, but we don’t have to change the name for you to have a voice in this.” And there it was again—that warmth spreading through the room whenever these men talked about the club. It was something she’d never really understood before—brotherhood and family. Not a real family anyway. Her father ruled through fear, but this was loyalty. It was a completely different thing.
Wade reached into the bag and tossed Butcher a folded piece of leather. Princess frowned slightly. “What’s that?” she asked.
Butcher caught it automatically before unfolding it slowly, and then went still. Princess stepped closer instinctively, and her breath caught. It was a black and gold patch that said, Savage Bastards MC. The center patch wasn’t finished yet, but the outline of a skull was already stitched into the leather. Princess looked up at Butcher, and he stared at the patch like it physically hurt him.
“Wade,” he said quietly, “what the fuck.”
Wade shrugged casually, though emotion flickered behind his grin. “Figured a Prez should probably have colors.”
“I thought you came here to get me to change the name of the club, but then you handed me this patch,” Butcher said. “Why?”
Wade shrugged, “I was just trying to give you some shit. But I like the name you came up with, man. As long as I have a say in things, I’m good with whatever,” he said. The silence that followed felt strangely emotional, and suddenly, Princess understood something important. This wasn’t just Butcher protecting her anymore. This club and these men were saving him, too—one patch at a time.
BUTCHER
Butcher stared at the patch in his hands long after Wade stopped talking. Savage Bastards MC. The leather felt heavier than it should, like it already had history behind it. It was almost like every choice he made ten years ago was coming full circle, whether he was ready for it or not.
