“Just a misunderstanding,” I say, standing up and putting my eyes on her. Fuck she’s beautiful. Her hair is hanging over her shoulders, shining in the moonlight. She’s got on a pair of tight as hell jeans that hug all of her curves, causing my hands to itch with the need to run them over her hourglass frame.
“Bo Bo,” Carolina calls, her voice low and unsure. “Are you okay?”
Boston’s entire demeanor changes as he shifts his body and looks at her. “I’m okay, Caro.” He leaves me like I’m a bad rash and rushes over to her, flinging his arm across her shoulder and dragging her into him. “My brother and his friends are scary, and they don’t know how to use their words like big boys.”
All of us watch the two of them converse. It’s young and innocent, reminding me of better times before life got so damn chaotic and complicated. “We can teach them,” she whispers. She eagerly nods her head as if she’s come to some sort of conclusion. “Maybe they didn’t have good examples. We’ll show them how to be big and how to use their words.”
“We’re good teachers,” Boston adds, grinning at me.
“Good,” Jersey states as she saunters over to us and smiles at the duo. “I’m the only teacher here and I could use a couple of helpers.”
“We can help!” Carolina shouts, clapping her hands.
“We like to help,” Boston adds, looking excited. “We’re good helpers, I promise.”
“I believe you,” Jersey tells them. “My name is Jersey and you’ll be staying with me.”
“We’re staying in your house?” Carolina asks, her eyes growing wide.
“You are,” Jersey confirms. “You have your own bedroom and I stocked the kitchen with lots of good snacks. Would you like to come see?”
“Yes,” they answer simultaneously, both of them bouncing on the balls of their feet as they rush to Jersey.
Jersey lifts her chin, those beautiful eyes narrowing into slits as she surveys the lot of us. “Unload the kids’ things and get them inside,” she commands, her voice laced with that trademark sass. “And for the love of everything holy, try acting like the grown-ass men you’re supposed to be while you’re at it.” She taps two fingers against her eyes before leveling them at us, a silent promise that she’ll be tracking our every move. I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips as I pivot on my boot heels, heading toward the rear of the SUV where Xavier’s tactical team is already in motion. The guards keep their expressions schooled and professional, not offering a single word as they begin hauling luggage and crates out of the hatch and lining them up on the pavement for us to grab.
I make the rounds, introducing my club brothers to the newcomers as they approach. Icer doesn’t bother helping with the heavy lifting, instead, he stands off to the side, arms crossed over his massive chest as he watches the men like a hawk. “When the last of it is inside, I'm seeing them out of the compound,” he barks, his tone leaving no room for debate.
“I was gonna give them a beer before they leave, Icer,” I inform him.
Icer grunts and grinds his jaw. “There’s a bar down the road. I’ll send them with enough cash to enjoy themselves.”
“We’re grateful for the hospitality, but it's been a hell of a haul on the road. We’re gonna hit the motel and get some shut eye. The pay was more than fair, so keep your cash,” Hank, the crew lead, informs me. His team nods in silent agreement, so I exchange a final handshake and offer my thanks for the escort. As I snag a suitcase and head for the door, I toss a quick nod toward Icer. The man's got a good heart, he just needs to work on his bedside manner.
While we get the kids settled in, Boston never takes his eyes off Riptide, tracking him with a suspicious glare. My president is gonna have to work double-time to win my brother over after that stunt. That first encounter was a total clusterfuck, but I have faith that Boston will eventually see the man I do, one who's hard-headed and unyielding, but has a solid soul underneath it all.
A ghost of a grin tugs at Riptide’s mouth as he watches Boston trail behind Carolina as they turn the corner, heading to their room. His suspicious gaze was locked onto us like a heat-seeking missile. My president leans in and murmurs, “The only thing I regret is letting your brother witness me clocking you.”
“I get it,” I remark, letting out a heavy breath. “I don’t regret hauling ass to my brother, but I’m sorry I left the way I did.”
“Thought so,” he huffs, the irritation clear in his tone. “You wear the VP patch, Slayer. If you start ignoring the code, how the hell are we supposed to keep the rest of the brothers in line?”
“I fucked up, Rip. I’m not gonna blow smoke up your ass with excuses because I don’t have a good one to give. When that administrator called, I just reacted. Boston is my brother, and outside of this club, I’m the only blood he’s got left in this world.”
“As much as I don’t like it, I’m gonna have to use you as an example, Slayer. Church in the morning. Expect a verbal beatdown.”
“Wouldn't expect anything less,” I mutter, my voice tight. As he strides off the porch, I drop back onto the swing and take a long pull of my beer, the cold liquid doing nothing to soothe the tension. I knew there’d be hell to pay, and I knew he'd be beyond pissed, but being held up as a cautionary tale to the brothers is a bitter pill I’m not eager to swallow.
CHAPTER
FIVE
Jersey
I spentmost of last night tangled in my bedsheets, my brain stuck on a loop as I revisited the chaos of the evening. Usually, I'm the type to fade into the woodwork, but the way I stood my ground with those men has my gut twisting in knots. Thinking about facing them again has me vibrating with nerves.
“What the hell was I thinking?” I mutter to the empty room, swinging my legs over the side of the mattress and burying my face in my hands. The silence of the trailer feels heavy after the adrenaline-soaked mess of the night before. I had actually barked orders at the top tier members of an MC as if they were toddlers in need of a timeout.
The sheer audacity makes my heart hammer against my ribs. Disappearing into the background was my survival tactic, a lesson hammered home in a house where being noticed meant you were either a target or a punchline. I let out a shaky breath, my fingers worrying the hem of my pajamas. Taking in Boston and Carolina is the right call, I feel it in my soul. Slayer’s brotherneeds a soft place to land, not some sterile facility, and Carolina needs someone who gets her world. But being this close to the club, to the violence and unfiltered masculinity, is a massive leap of faith. I’m used to deadbolts and personalized hiding spots. These gates might keep the monsters out, but they also keep me pinned in the middle of a war zone.
