Page 13 of Slayin Villain (Royal Bastards MC: Nashville, TN #11)

Eve

I stood at the edge of the chaos, high heels sunk into the dirt, one hand on my hip and the other clutched around a sweating mason jar full of something strong enough to knock the sin outta a preacher. I held my Ol’ Man’s drink.

“Lawd have mercy,” I muttered, watching a fire-eater spit flame right over a topless chick swingin’ from a wrecking ball like we’d turned Royal Road into a damn music video.

This wasn’t no ordinary patch-over. Hell no. Kingpin didn’t do anything halfway. This was part Vegas, part Halloween, part hell-froze-over.

He’d been dreamin’ this mess up for months, ever since his brother Bubba called dibs on his day. Kingpin didn’t want elegance. He wanted mayhem. He wanted to show the world that Nashville wasn’t just Music City.

It was the royal throne of the damned.

“Darlin’, you gonna wear a crown or a collar tonight?” he asked behind me, whiskey breath warm on my neck as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

I smiled, southern sweet and venomous all at once. “Depends. You gonna behave or get branded with your own damn initials again?”

He laughed, full and low. “Ain’t no fun unless there’s a scar.”

I looked out at the madness, cages, fire, blood, sex, and country music blaring like God Himself was drunk on moonshine, and thought, This right here? This is our kingdom.

And damn if I didn’t love every outlaw second of it.

I’d been chasin’ stages. The Grand Ole Opry. CMA Fest. The Bluebird. Hell, I stood next to Beau Strick himself and belted out duets all over the world that made grown men weep and women name their babies after me.

But none of that held a candle to this. To being Eve, Kingpin’s Ol’ Lady, Queen of outlaws, Mother of the Bastard Sons MC, standing next to the biker I’d nearly ruined myself to hate, only to find out loving him was so much worse.

And a million times better.

As much as I’d cursed my husband under my breath, I knew the Bastard Sons MC was for Prince, for the second generation. A way for us to ensure our babies were safe and there was a club for them to inherit someday.

I wasn’t performing tonight, but Kingpin watched me all night, just like he always did. Like I was still on that stage, just for him. I liked it. Damn near needed it.

“Eve!” Cece squealed, waving me over to a circle of folding chairs near a burn barrel. Her heels were kicked off, her sundress knotted at the thigh.

“Girl, this your third drink?” I asked, dropping into a chair beside her.

“Fourth,” she grinned big. “Irish’s gonna kill me.”

Mary leaned over, her pink cowboy hat already stolen by a passing prospect. “My man’s off dealin’ with club drama, so I’m here to watch y’all make fools of yourselves.”

Jassica passed me a flask I had to refuse. “Too late,” she said with a hiccup.

Connie, who ran the best damn bike shop this side of the Mississippi with her man Dawg, kicked back and let her laugh loose. “Ain’t no such thing as too late tonight.”

Even Memphis showed up. She’d had her baby three weeks early months ago. She looked tired but gorgeous, and when I asked about Big, she just shrugged. “He’s still on a run. He don’t know yet.”

“Girl,” I said, low and scandalized.

“I ain’t callin’ him until I get a nap.”

We all cackled like witches around a cauldron. The kind of cackling that meant a woman was finally free. Safe. Claimed.

I caught sight of Leo too, Opry’s woman, dragging his tall lanky ass toward the dance circle with a smirk that said she’d be riding more than the rhythm later tonight.

Later, I stepped out near the front porch of Royal Road, needing a breath that didn’t smell like gunpowder and sex.

That’s when I saw Haven.

The girl was twenty now, or was she twenty-one?

Regardless, she had curves to kill and a wild streak Kingpin swore he’d beat outta her if she ever got caught sneaking off again.

She was perched on a picnic table, lip-locked with Aden, the late Buzzard’s grandson, who was too pretty for his own damn good.

They broke apart when they saw me. I just raised my brow.

“Ain’t y’all a pair,” I said, sipping my lemonade.

“We’re grown,” Haven shot back, chin tilted.

I leaned in. “That right? Then be grown enough not to get caught.” I winked. “And use protection. Kingpin’s still old-school. He’ll make you marry that boy if he finds out you’re knocked up.”

It was a good thing Tessa’s daughters were old enough to babysit lil’ Angel and Prince, because I was almost positive Haven would have her own kids before long.

By midnight, the bonfires burned hotter, the music got louder, and Kingpin had vanished.

Until he appeared again like magic.

He found me behind the arena, pinning me to the brick with his body, hands already under my skirt.

“Miss me?” he growled, mouth at my throat.

“Not even a little.”

“Liar.”

“Thought that lion would eat you, and I’d be free.”

“Not a fuckin’ chance. You really want free of me?”

His kiss tore the truth out of me, his mouth taking like he was starving, hands claiming like he’d just remembered I was his and no one else’s.

“I love this dress,” he murmured, dragging the straps down. “But it’s in my damn way.”

“You gonna rip another?” I teased, breathless.

“I’ll buy you ten more.”

We didn’t make it inside.

The stone wall was cold against my back, his belt undone, his new cut falling from his shoulder as he gripped my thighs.

“Say my name,” he said.

“Which one?” I moaned, arching up.

He grinned against my neck. “The one that makes you come.”

Sometime before dawn, I curled up beside him in the bed of Opry’s truck, our clothes scattered in the grass, the stars wide open above us.

“You ever regret it?” he whispered.

“What?”

“Leaving the stage?” He looked at me like I was the stage. The spotlight. The encore.

I rolled my eyes. Once I had this baby, I’d be stage hoppin’ again. But I answered like he wanted. “Only when I’m not in your arms.”

“Eve, we both know once you pop that youngin’ out, you’ll be back in the spotlight. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Kingpin knew me better than anyone.

And with that, I knew. I’d trade fame for firelight.

Applause for outlaw kisses.

Spotlights for stars.

And I’d never, not once, look back.

But Kingpin wouldn’t let me give up my dreams. Besides, Royal Road was all the stage I ever needed.