Page 43 of Naughty Santa Daddy

Chuckling by brothers has me snarling. Then glaring at Miller. But, before I can open my mouth, he calmly asks, “Why did you sit down?”

Thinking of Alex, I use a practice from her playbook and exhale my stress. “Miller—”

Dismissively, he leans forward. “I know—I know. You want Dawg, but give your Prez a damn minute first.” Again, he patiently asks, “Why did you do what I just asked?” He smirks. “Even though you'resothirsty for blood, you’re about to become Freddy Krueger himself.”

My brows bunch at his stupid question. “Because you may have intel I need to know.”

He baits, “On how to torture Dawg?”

My jaw ticks. “No. I can handle that on my own.” I pinch the bridge of my nose as I explain, mockingly, “I’m sitting, like a good boy, because there’s something I may need to know. If I fuck up this interrogation and kill Dawg too early, it could harm the club.”

Brothers at the table all start nodding, but I don’t think it’s at me. It’s to Miller, who looks proud as fuck. “Always putting the club first.”

Drake teases, “Except for a recent pussy that shall not be named.”

That causes another round of chuckles.Fuckers.

Miller’s smile slowly fades, twisting to reflect his internal guilt. “Why did you take the fall?”

Prison.

I swallow due to my throat suddenly seeming a bit drier and tighter than a moment ago. He and I haven’t had the chance to truly discuss much about it. I was kind of hoping it would stay that way.What’s done is done.

Voice dropping so deep I can barely hear myself; I speak my truth to him and our brothers. “They needed you.”

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Miller nods while motioning to the men watching us. He understands who ‘they’ are.My brothers. My other family.

I give a curt nod, then motion back to him. “You’re now Prez. I was right.” I went with my gut, and it paid off. He’s where he belongs.

As if not surprised by my answer, he shrugs, leaning back in his chair to bait me some more. “No way for you to know that was coming.”

“Bullshit,” I argue. “You’ve always been a leader. Even when we were kids.”

Before I went to the pen, the writing had been on the wall. Our president at the time was making mistakes. I knew they’d cost him his life. What would my brothers have done without a solid leader to step up and see them through?

Again, Miller nonchalantly shrugs. “A leader is only as strong as those around him.” Suddenly, he stares at me with such conviction. “A club is only as strong as its most dedicated brothers.” His leg moves from under the table, then the VP chair is pushed back from it as well. “It’s time you takeyourplace.”

I blink in dismay. “What? Nah.” I shake my head. “I’m a follower.”

Men around me start to grumble and scoff, as if offended I’d speak of myself in such a way. I’m barely fresh from a long stint in prison; I haven’t been home long enough to deserve this. I may have sacrificed for the club, but they’re my family; it’s what we do when shit hits the fan.

Miller’s jaw is rigid as he leans forward again, this time nowhere near as relaxed. “Now who’s spewing bullshit.” It wasn’t a question. His finger stabs the table to drive his point home. “You may see a follower in yourself, but we,” he gestures around the table, “see precision, every thought and action of yours having purpose. Shit,” he slams his hand on the table, “you even decided not to wear a condom because deep down you saw that woman was your perfect match.”

Jesus, is he right?

Miller continues, “I know we have to make room for Alex in your—ourworld, but I don’t care. I think she has awakened a beast in you. I believe dangerous Goliath is now deadly as fucking sin.”

There is no arguing with that. My need for revenge is clawing at my insides like a beast demanding freedom. But… “Doesn’t make me worthy of the VP chair, Miller.” I gaze at my peers around the table. “Thank you for the honor, but—”

Prez immediately rises from his chair and hovers by his spot at the table, ultimately the position in our lives. “Your loyalty to this club is, literally, unmatched.”

My head falls forward to hang in a humble manner. I’m the only Joker to take that long walk…

A patch is slammed in front of the VP chair before Miller adds, “I would never ask you for somethin’ you weren’t meant for.”

Drake, trying to be playful yet sounding as sincere as can be, says, “We want Gramps to help lead us.”

Fuck. Me.His admission hits me straight in the gut. Drake teasing is actually his way of sayin’ something.

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