Mick took a deep breath then walked further in the room. Truth be told, he didn’t give a shit if he was offed today. There was a saying about a good day to die, which he agreed just as Sitting Bull had said that day.
“Look at him, squaring his shoulders like he’s going to meet his maker. I knew I liked him.” Duke rubbed his hands together.
“Pretty sure that ain’t making him feel any better. If we wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.” Keys words brought a hush over the room.
“Alright, then. I’ll bite. What’s this about? I’ve done what you’ve asked. I’ve been loyal and to a fault. I’ve followed where you led. So, what now?” If King was going to give him another ultimatum about Tiana—hell he didn’t know what he’d do.
“Now, you take the oath and become a full-fledged member. You ready for that?” King dropped his arms, spearing Mick’s eyes with his own.
“I’ve been ready for a long time or I wouldn’t still be here,” Mick agreed.
“The club is about respect. Respect for yourself, respect for the club and other clubs, respect for citizens, and respect for your prospect who wants to earn the right to wear that patch and call you brother. You have earned that right, Mick. Brotherhood means you’ll kill or die for your family, that you’ll protect and help them, and give half of what you have in your pockets to help a Brother in need, knowing he’d do the same fucking thing for you. Proving loyalty to your fellow brothers isn’t something that can be done overnight, which you obviously have done. We don’t make prospects suck dick or go down on a club whore after ten brothers have blown their load in her to prove their loyalty. That’s just not our way, but again, you already know that don’t you?” King asked.
He did. Shit, he nearly sagged with relief, knowing he didn’t have to ride alone or half in and half out any longer.
Hours later, he sat in the back of the clubhouse with a drink in one hand, eyeing his brothers, more than half drunk. The prospect patch gone, rocking the same patch as the others. In the past ten years, he hadn’t felt anything close to what he did once King presented him with the rocker, proclaiming him a Royal.
A glass bottle slammed next to his right hand, sloshing a little liquid onto the table. “Here you go, Brother. Damn fine shooting you did today. Ah shit, here comes King’s ole’ lady. She looks like she’s got something on her mind. I’ll talk to you in a bit.”
Mick sat back and watched Wheels hurry off before Ayesha arrived at his table. The prez’s ole’ lady couldn’t be more than five-feet-three, but her presence made you think she was ten-foot tall. “Hey,” he said as she stood there without speaking.
Ayesha pointed at him; her chin wobbled. “You—you are my new favorite person. King wouldn’t let me come up here earlier because I had to take care of myself and T, and then King had to take care of me, and well, that’s something I’m sure you don’t want to hear about.” Ayesha bit her lip.
Mick chuckled at the rambling woman, then sobered. “Have a seat, Ayesha.” He indicated the chair across from him with the top of his beer bottle.
Ayesha let out a burst of air. “King will be stomping his way over here shortly, but I needed to get that off my chest. You saved him and me and my entire family today. I’ll forever be indebted to you for that. If you ever need anything you only have to ask, and it’s yours.”
He was pretty sure asking if he could have her sister would be out of line, so he just nodded and took a sip of his beer.
“That’s it? You’re not going to ask me for anything?” She sat down in the chair with a huff.
“What would you like me to ask for? I have everything I need. A great bike that’s paid for. A new helmet that the club just gave me. An apartment to go home to, and a place here to crash when I need it. I really am a simple man.” She had no clue just how simple he was. He’d grown up one of many children, who had to do with very little. He’d been the only child from his mother, but that had been a huge defect in The Father’s eyes. He ruthlessly shoved the memories back into the black box he kept them in, wondering why they seemed to be coming out now.
“I wish—never mind. You’re a good man, Archer,” she said.
Mick smiled at his new road name. He never really cared for the name Frog even though he hadn’t really jumped so much as just did what needed being done, and he didn’t croak like a fucking frog, but Groot had said he did, so it stuck. Nobody questioned why he’d croaked, or the fact it was due to an injury. “Good man isn’t really what I was aiming to be,” he told her. He saw King making his way toward them. The other man didn’t swagger or stomp like Ayesha said, more like stalked. “Here comes your man now, and he looks a little angry. What did you do this time?”
Ayesha grinned and rubbed at her wrists. “A lady never tells.”
“Hmm, and a lady wouldn’t be sitting down on a fine ass that should be too sore to be sitting if she did what she’d been told. I guess I need to use a firmer hand next time. Let’s go.” King held his hand out and waited.
Ayesha rolled her eyes, but she stood, placing her palm into King’s. “You mean I get to walk out this time?”
“I’m feeling mighty generous tonight. How you doing, Archer? Got everything you need?” King looked at the bottles lined up in front of Mick. “Shouldn’t you have a lady on each leg as well as liquor there?”
Mick had already turned away a couple of the women who had offered to celebrate with him. Fucking Tiana had him twisted in a knot, and she wasn’t even within touching distance. At the rate he was going, he was going to become a fucking saint.
“I’m good.” He lifted the bottle up and downed the remaining contents. The music was blaring over the speakers, but he was in a corner where he could relax without his eardrums being assaulted.
“You’d be even better if you let one of them suck you off. Trust me, I plan to rectify that myself as soon as I get my ole’ lady home.” King tugged Ayesha closer to his side as he turned them toward the exit.
He watched the other men and their women as they sat and drank, all happy to be with one woman, and then there were the others who had like King had suggested, a couple women on each leg. Mick wondered if he was as fucked up as the man who’d—fuck he was nothing like that bastard. Glass cracked under his fingers. “Motherfuck,” he cursed.
“Here, let me get that.”
Mick glanced up at the shy voice, holding his bleeding hand up to stop her from reaching for the broken glass. “I got it, don’t need you cutting yourself.”
“No, this is my job.” She looked over her shoulder then back down at the table, hurrying to brush the broken pieces onto her tray.
“Sweets, I broke it. I’ll fix it.” He grabbed her hand, stopping her from injuring herself.
“I don’t want to get in trouble with Wheels. He got me this job.”
Mick looked over to where the other brother stood, his heart lurching at the sight of Tiana in the doorway. “Shit.”
“What?”
Tiana’s hair whipped around as she turned back, said something to Traeger who nodded, then she left. Mick didn’t need to be a mind reader to know she’d seen him and the little waitress standing close together and got the wrong impression. Hell, it would be for the best if she thought he was with her. His heart did that lurch thing again. With quick motions, he shoved the broken glass onto the tray while his hand bled some more.