Page 45 of Collect the Pieces

“Rooster’s big, white ass wishes I was joking.”

“I’ll never tell anyone you shared that with me,” she says in a solemn tone, understanding my club might not approve.

Even so, I need her to understand the stakes. “We try not to drag the women into club specifics.”Sometimes that’s easier said than done.

“Kinda hard to do that when someone sends your wife her brother’stoe,” she points out.

“Uh, yeah,” I agree. “Each brother decides for himself how much he shares with his ol’ lady.” I swallow hard, wary of even the potential sting of betrayal. “If she ever betrays the MC,he’sthe one who suffers the punishment from the club.”

“What form of punishment?”

“Depends on the depth of the betrayal.” Am I really sharing this much detail with her already? Worse, am I doing it right before I take her to hang out with the club for her first visit as my girlfriend? Truth is, if an ol’ lady snitches to the cops, they’d probablybothend up six feet under. “Most punishments come in the form of cash or blood.”

“So, a fine or a beating?” Her voice is full of curiosity, like she’s trying to swallow our brand of family justice. “No permanent disfigurement?”

Good God, her mind is fascinating and sharp as a blade. I want to crawl inside her brain andlivethere. “Like cutting off a finger or something? No. If we strip someone’s patch, and they don’t end up in the ground, they have to get rid of any and all Lost Kings MC ink. Method is up to them.” I gesture to my arms and shoulders. “But you’ve seen how covered a lot of us are.”

“Covering all that ink could be disfiguring in its own way.”

“Right, and if they don’t do it in a specific time frame…” I let the idea hang for a few beats. “Then we do it for them?—”

“And not in a neat, artistic fashion, I assume,” she says with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

I tilt my head to the side in answer.

When she doesn’t say anything, I glance over.

She lifts her eyebrows, silently demanding more detail.

“I’ve only seen that happen once,” I say. “When I was a prospect in Washington.”

“Let me guess, the president wanted you and Rooster to watch, so you’d fully grasp the price of betrayal?”

My brothers have no idea how much Margot’s going to deserve that property patch I’m giving her one day. “I’m sure that had a lot to do with it. It doesn’t happen often, though,” I hurry to add. “Club here spends a lot of time vetting brothers before we vote them in, and they get their full patch. Especially now.”

“Now?”

I sigh and shift my gaze to the approaching highway sign. Our exit’s coming up. Can I finish this before we get to the clubhouse? This story might be giving Margot too much history.

Fuck it.

“Our old president was a little too busy enjoying the benefits of his position instead of actually running the club. Some bad apples slipped into Downstate’s barrel. Or they turned rotten over time. He paid a price for his laziness.” Sway got a fucking bullet to his head and somehow survived. But it opened his eyes to what a piece of shit his VP Shadow had been. “He’s retired now.”

“Did he have to cover his ink?”

“No. He didn’t betray the club and get kicked out…it’s complicated and not really important. Our national prez strongly encouraged the retirement and appointed Z to take over.”

She nods slowly. “How political.”

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. “Yeah, we’re a regular outlaw democracy.”

“You’d die for your brothers?” she asks.

“Yes.” I flip my blinker on and slide into the exit lane.

“Would they die for you?”

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. “They’d die for you too, Margot. Because you’re mine.”

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