Page 87 of Kings Against the World

Everybody in this room has lived in Pulsboro or its surrounding towns all their life. I’m the only outlier that came from Southern California. Some gated community in Newport Beach where surfing was considered a hobby and my father sometimes drove a different car to work each day.

I’m a former trust-fund kid who grew up privileged and then went off the deep end. I threw it all away for tattoos, bikes, and a fast life of lawlessness.

When I came to the Steel Kings, I thought I’d finally found my place. The group where an outcast like me belonged. Now I’m not so sure the club really is my people.

Maybe I don’t have any. It’s not in the cards for me, just like finding love like some of the other guys.

“And last thing before I forget,” Silver says, the corner of his mouth spreading in a half-grin. He gestures to Logan at the head table. “Ghost here is about to be a father any day now! Teysha’s due any minute, so if you get a chance, congratulate him and buy him a case of diapers—and beer—he’s going to need both!”

Everybody erupts in applause for that. Several Kings get up and stride over to shake Logan’s hand and offer him their wise, and not so wise, fatherly advice.

The meeting officially over, I hop down from the bar stool and thank Mick for the Diet Coke.

He casts me an almost pitying smile. “No problem, Oz. You take care of yourself.”

The music’s turned up and the bar floor crowds with Kings kicking off the festivities that usually follow meetings.

There’s no use hanging around. Nobody’ll notice if I’m gone. At one point, I was the life of these parties. I was the guy blasting the music like a fucking DJ, downing shots and streaking down the street.

I’ve never taken myself too seriously, but these days, it seems that’s all I’m able to do.

The fun, carefree days are over.

Silver calls out my name when I’m a couple steps away from the door.

“Ozzie, got a second?”

I almost turn him down. Make up some excuse that I’ve got something else going on. But there’s no use lying. Whatever Silver’s got to say to me, he can say it to my face. My pulse beats harder, frustration clenching inside me like my hands do into fists.

I nod and start to follow him to the back, but we’re not alone—Mace and Logan join us, to more irritation from me.

What the fuck is this? An ambush?

“Yeah?” I say the second we’re in the club office. I lean against the back of the couch and jut my chin at Silver. “What’s up?”

Silver sighs, his expression like a disappointed dad. “We’ve been over this before… but some of the guys are worried.”

I bark out a laugh before I can stop myself. “Worried? Yeah, I got that loud and clear when I was erased from damn near everything. Which means no need to worry anymore, Silver. No more screw ups, right?”

“That’s not why we?—”

“I get it,” I cut in, pushing off the back of the couch and stepping toward him. “I’m a fuckup. I’m unreliable. You phased me out so I fell back. You don’t gotta sugarcoat it.”

Silver shakes his head and opens his mouth like he wants to argue, but I keep going, the words spilling out sharp and bitter. “Hell, it’s been that way since before Vegas. Before fucking Houston. But at least before you pretended like you weren’t judging.”

“Nobody’s judging you, Oz. We just want you taking your meds like you’re supposed to.”

“And I’ve been doing that! But don’t treat me like some clueless moron! I might be stupid, but I’m not that stupid. You think I don’t know it’s cuz of the undercover gig I was a part of? About the situation with Boone? Just say it—you don’t trust me anymore!”

Mace, leaning against the far wall, snorts. “Get your head out of your ass, Ozzie. This ain’t about us freezing you out ’cuz we don’t trust you. If that were the case, you would’ve been gone. We needed to be sure you were turning your life around.”

“Yeah?” I laugh again, louder this time, but there’s nothing funny about it. It tastes sour in my mouth. “Well, good luck waiting. 'Cuz it’s never gonna happen. Once a screw up, always a screw up. That clear enough for you yet?”

Mace's jaw tightens, his nostrils flaring. Silver manages to respond first.

“That’s not who you are,” he says calmly, though I detect pity in his voice. It makes my stomach churn. “We’re a brotherhood, Oz. We’re looking out for you?—”

“Don’t,” I snap. “I don’t need fucking pity.”

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