Page 14 of Butcher's Honor

"Motorcycle club," he corrects. "Not gang. And what did you expect?"

"I don't know. Someone... harder, maybe? Less likely to let a five-year-old teach him proper cookie decoration techniques?"

He chuckles, "Don't let my brothers hear about that. I have a reputation to maintain."

"Your secret's safe with me." I hesitate, then ask what I've been wondering since he first appeared in my doorway yesterday. "How did you end up here? In the club, I mean?"

Joey is quiet for a long moment, his thumb still tracing patterns on my hand. Just when I think he won't answer, he speaks.

"Got out of the military twelve years ago. Three tours in Afghanistan left me with more demons than I knew what to do with. Couldn't sleep, couldn't hold down a regular job, couldn't... adjust." He takes a sip of milk with his free hand. "Then I met Hellfire—our president. He was a vet too, understood what I was going through. The club gave me purpose, structure. A brotherhood."

"Like the military?"

"Similar, but different. No rules except our own. No government telling us what to do or who to be." His eyes meet mine. "Probably not what a nice girl like you wants to hear."

"I'm not that nice," I say softly. "And I'm not a girl."

Something darkens in his gaze. "No, you're definitely not. You’re a woman."

Heat blooms on my cheeks, and I look down at our joined hands. His are so much larger than mine, scarred and powerful, yet holding mine with such gentleness.

"What about you?" he asks. "How'd a woman like you end up with someone like Derek?"

I sigh. "Classic story. Met him at work in Oregon—he was a client at the design firm where I was working. He was charming, successful, seemed so different from Tommy's father, who ran the moment I told him I was pregnant." I shake my head. "By the time I saw Derek's true colors, I was already isolated from my friends, dependent on him financially. It's embarrassing how textbook it was."

"Nothing embarrassing about being deceived by someone you trusted." His hand tightens slightly around mine. "Though I'm still going to have the boys patrolling your house and making sure he really left."

"You don't have to—"

"I want to." His voice leaves no room for argument. "Let me do this, Ruby."

The way he says my name makes my heart race. "Why do you care so much?"

"Because..." He stops, seeming to wrestle with something. "Because you deserve better. You and Tommy both."

"Better than what? A violent biker who kills people?"

The words slip out before I can stop them, and his hand stiffens in mine. Slowly, he tries to pull away, but I hold on.

"No, wait. I'm sorry. That wasn't fair."

"But it was true." His voice is rough. "I am violent. I do kill people. That's not going to change."

"To protect what's yours," I say quietly. "Your club, your territory, your..." I trail off, not sure how to finish that sentence.

His eyes darken again. "Careful, Ruby. You don't want to be mine."

"Don't I?" The leftover adrenaline makes me bolder. "You don't know what I want."

"I know what I am." He leans forward, his presence suddenly overwhelming. "I'm not a good man. Not someone you should trust around your kid."

"Tommy adores you."

"He shouldn't."

"Well, I do, too."

The tension between us shifts at my confession, and Joey pulls back slightly, though his hand remains in mine. I can see himstruggling with how to respond, so I'm almost relieved when he changes the subject.

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