Page 49 of Slayin Villain (Royal Bastards MC: Nashville, TN #11)

Ember

Rome had been chasing me for months. Showing up around corners. Leaving notes. Sending messages I never answered.

And the worst part? The club let him.

Apparently, if you rat out a rival MC and survive a beating bad enough to leave you with bones poking through the skin and scars like road maps, you get a seat at the damn table again.

They said Kingpin liked to gamble. And Rome? Somehow he lucked out. Crawled his way back into usefulness.

But me?

I was just the girl left behind. The girl with a baby belly and too many broken promises.

Thorn found me by the firepit that night.

It was a party, but I didn’t feel like celebrating. My belly stuck out round and proud, my boots were tight, and every time someone looked my way, I saw pity in their eyes.

All except his.

Thorn leaned against a beam, arms folded, eyes dark and steady like he saw me and not the mess I’d made of things.

“You’re glaring holes in that fire, darlin’,” he said, a slow grin tugging at his mouth. “What’d it ever do to you?”

I snorted. “Same as every man in this club. Burned me.”

Thorn chuckled, deep and slow. “You let the wrong ones get close. That ain’t the fire’s fault. That’s yours.”

I turned to him, narrowing my eyes. “You callin’ me dumb?”

“I said wrong, not dumb,” he replied, stepping closer. “You ain’t dumb. Just... tired of games.”

“Don’t come over here trying to analyze me like you know me, Thorn.”

“Oh, but I do know you. I’ve known you since the day you showed up, all fire and lip gloss and too much attitude for one girl to carry.” He cocked his head. “Thing is, I liked you back then.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I still like you. More now that you don’t take no shit.”

I stared at him, trying to read between the lines. Thorn was the cleaner, the guy they called when things got messy. The man didn’t talk much. Didn’t get involved. Always had blood under his nails and secrets in his back pocket.

He didn’t have a tattoo on him and always wore a cowboy hat, dark as his skin.

“You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause I’m a trainwreck.”

“Nah,” he said, leaning closer, voice dropping. “I like trainwrecks. They’re the only things worth slowin’ down to watch.”

I choked on a laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re beautiful.”

I glanced down at my swollen belly. “Yeah, real pinup material here.”

He stepped closer, brushing a knuckle under my chin, tilting my face up to his. “You ever see a wildfire, Ember? Big, bright, dangerous. Leaves a path of ruin behind it but somehow manages to be the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever seen.”

I didn’t answer.

Because I didn’t trust myself to speak.

We didn’t go back to my place.

We went to his.

His bed was a massive thing, the headboard scuffed with years of fists, nails, and God knows what else.

But the way he looked at me...

No one had ever looked at me like that.

Not even Rome. Surely not Villain. And fuck, pregnancy makes you horny as all get out.

He didn’t care that my hips were wider or my back ached. He didn’t care that I was someone else’s mistake. Thorn touched me like I was sacred, like he’d been starving for years and I was the only thing worth tasting.

“I’m not gonna stop,” he whispered when I froze under his hands.

He didn’t.

Not once.

Hours later, I laid against him, breathless and sore in all the right ways. Thorn’s arm draped over me, heavy and warm.

“You always wanted me?” I asked.

He brushed a kiss against my temple. “Always. You just didn’t see me ‘cause you were too busy looking at boys instead of men.”

“I never thought I was good enough.”

He rolled onto his side, cradling my face. “You are. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You’re more than enough, Ember.”

I closed my eyes. For the first time in months, I felt... safe.

The next morning, I snuck out of Thorn’s room barefoot, holding my boots.

I wasn’t ready for all the stares. The whispers. The pity or the judgment.

But I didn’t get far.

Sweet Tea was waiting in the hallway like a trap set just for me.

“Thought you might slink off in the dark,” she said, stepping into my path.

“I’m not slinking. I’m walkin’.”

She crossed her arms, the gold hoops in her ears glinting under the overhead light. “You think you cute?”

I raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You think just ‘cause you’re big with a baby and Thorn likes the way your ass jiggles, you got a pass now?”

I rolled my eyes. “What is your problem, Sweet Tea?”

Her expression hardened. “He was mine. Is mine.”

I blinked. “You and Thorn?”

“We got history,” she hissed. “And I was hopin’ you’d just go. With Rome.”

“Well, I didn’t. And maybe I don’t owe you shit.”

She stepped in closer. “He won’t love you. Not like that. You’re just somethin’ shiny to distract him. Something broken he thinks he can fix.”

I opened my mouth to snap back, but someone cleared their throat behind us.

Memphis.

She leaned against the doorway, eyes on Sweet Tea like she was a roach in her coffee.

“That’s enough,” Memphis said. “You don’t get to talk like that and call yourself family.”

Sweet Tea’s eyes flashed, but she stepped back.

Memphis looked at me. “Watch your back, baby girl. Some folks got teeth they only show when they think no one’s lookin’.”

I nodded, heart hammering.

She was right. Sweet Tea was my cousin. Much older cousin. I thought she had my back. She hadn’t said all that out of love.

She’d said it out of fear.

Because for the first time in a long time, I was the one people were watching.

And I wasn’t crawling back anymore.