Page 23 of Slayin Villain (Royal Bastards MC: Nashville, TN #11)

Villain

They say Church is where you bring your sins.

But tonight? Mine brought me.

I walked into the back room of Royal Road with my cut heavy on my shoulders. It was just after sunrise. I hadn’t slept. Not after Ember cried in my bed and Rachel haunted my dreams.

Kingpin sat at the head of the table like the goddamn reaper himself.

His fingers steepled. His silver rings caught the overhead light like knives.

My brothers flanked him. Irish, Riff, and Pagan.

Knox had come down from Knoxville just for this, in place of my brother.

Hell, even Murder from Charleston leaned back in the corner, arms crossed, his new patch loud and proud on his chest. He was still visiting after our patch over party. Hadn’t slept off his hangover yet.

I looked around.

Nobody smiled.

“Take a seat,” Kingpin said.

I dropped into the chair like I was walking into my own funeral.

“Church is now in session,” Pagan announced, voice cold steel.

“What the hell is this?” I asked. “A firing squad?”

“You wish it was,” Irish grunted, flipping his knife open and shut. “Then we could put you out of ye misery. We could.”

“Watch it,” I snapped.

“Nah,” Kingpin said, cool as ever. “You watch yourself. ’Cause your dick’s been writing checks this club is gonna have to cash.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but Kingpin leaned forward, fire flashing in his dark eyes.

“You think this patch is just for show, boy? You think you can fuck around with two women, both of them tied to this club, both of them pregnant, and not have it come back to bite us?”

“I didn’t plan this.”

“No shit,” Riff drawled.

Pagan barked a humorless laugh. “I have chapters breathing down my neck already. You wrote bylaws for them. You just gave ’em a reason to doubt your judgment.”

My fists clenched under the table.

“You’re lucky we run this crew.” Pagan said, voice quiet but sharp. “If this was any other club, you’d already be bled out behind the fire pit.”

I looked at Kingpin, trying to find an ounce of mercy in his face. I didn’t see any.

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to clean your shit up,” he said. “You knocked up Rachel. She’s been loyal. She kept quiet about more shit than I can count. Deadly shit. She didn’t ask for protection or handouts. She kept showing up, even when you were too busy treating Ember like your new ride.”

Fuck, he was right.

“And Ember?” Kingpin added. “Rome’s not just a prospect anymore. He was patched the other night. He’s family, now. You put him in a fucked-up spot. And now she’s knocked up too. Besides, her and Eve have grown close. You’re messin’ with my woman’s bestie.”

I looked down. The guilt hit like a blow to the ribs. I could still smell Ember’s perfume on my skin. Rachel’s voice echoed in my head from the day before.

“You gonna choose?”

Yeah. I had chosen. I’d chosen a mess. And now the mess was demanding consequences.

“So what?” I said, my voice rough. “You want me to pick one? Just toss the other out like trash?”

“No,” Kingpin said. “We want you to take care of both.”

The room went dead silent.

My stomach dropped.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said. “You wrote the goddamn new rules, asshole.” He pulled out the book and flipped through the first few pages. “You laid down with both of ’em. You own that. You don’t get to pick and play. You man the fuck up,” he said, pointing at the rule.

“Knock up a club girl? Congratulations, you have an Ol’ Lady in the eyes of the club.”

And then he flipped to another.

“Members may have more than one (1) OL ' lady.”

Pagan nodded. “That means child support. Housing. Medical bills. Respect. Whether you’re with either one of them or not.”

“And if you are with either,” Riff added. “Then you make damn sure you ain't dragging the club's rep through the mud anymore. No more sneaking around. They both need to know.”

I looked around the table. My throat burned.

“And if I don’t?”

Kingpin leaned back, exhaled smoke. “Then you hand over your patch. Today. Them are the new rules.”

The room spun a little. I gripped the edge of the table so hard my knuckles cracked.

“I’ll never walk away from this club.”

“Then prove it,” Knox said. “Start acting like a man who wears that cut.”

I swallowed. “They hate each other.”

Knox shrugged. “That’s your problem.”

Kingpin’s eyes locked with mine. “We all got ghosts. Women we can’t fix. Mistakes that rot under the surface. But this… this ain’t about love. It’s about duty. You figure out the love part later. Right now, you take care of what’s yours.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. For a moment, I saw their faces. Rachel’s wild red hair, that look in her eyes like I broke something deep. Ember, crying when I didn’t say anything after she told me she was pregnant.

And in both of their hands, maybe, was a baby.

My baby.

Babies.

“I’ll handle it,” I said hoarsely.

“You’ll start tonight,” Kingpin said. “Call ’em both. Tell ’em what we decided.”

“Together?”

“If you’ve got the bollocks,” Irish muttered.

Knox stood, giving me a rare look of sympathy. “You don’t gotta do it perfect. But you gotta do it honest.”

And just like that, Church was over.

Only now, the reckoning was mine.