Page 3 of Knuckles

“You sure Torpedo and Bohannon are on board with this?” Hawk gave me a hard look. “’Cause, I gotta tell you, they saved this club from going down the fuckin’ toilet. I’m solidly in your favor for president, but I can’t in good conscience go against either of those men.”

“You won’t have to.” I took another gulp of my coffee. I really wanted a fuckin’ beer, but I hadn’t had one since before I went to prison and couldn’t take the chance of dulling my senses because I couldn’t handle my alcohol. “Took me a long fuckin’ time to get those guys here, and they only agreed to stay until I acclimated to life on the outside.”

“You?” Knight leaned against the bar, taking a pull from his beer. “You brought Bones to Kiss of Death?”

“I did. And you have no idea how many strings I had to pull to make it happen. So I will give Torpedo all the time he needs to be satisfied I’m fit to lead this club again. The last thing either him or Bohannon are going to allow is for us to fall back to the way it was before they got here.”

“It’s not like Bones and Salvation’s Bane left much when they cleaned house.” Hawk’s gaze tracked around the room. He’d been my sergeant at arms before I’d gone to prison. He and Knight had gone into hiding along with a few others of my inner circle when Dart had staged a violent takeover. I hadn’t been able to help. It had taken several years for me to establish connections on the outside that filtered inside the prison. Avenging my sister had been the most important thing at the time, and the consequences took me nearly a decade to overcome. When I did, it took nearly the same amount of time for me to guide Kiss of Death into the paths of Bones, Salvation’s Bane, and Black Reign MCs. The price was high, but worth it. And, if I were honest, I had no problem with being affiliated with Bones MC or any splinter club.

“Doesn’t matter. That shit Dart, then Slash, did in the club’s name hurt us. I was negligent in getting myself put in prison without a plan in place for the club.”

“I heard the former president of Bones actually married one of Slash’s victims.”

“Yeah. Cain took a woman, Angel, as his old lady. Raised three of the kids there too.”

“Ice and Cyclone.” Hawk gave me a nod. “I met Cyclone once. Didn’t the girl end up with another of Bones’s members?”

“Yeah.” Something caught my eye as I continued to converse with Hawk and Knight. A woman I thought I recognized. I couldn’t place her immediately, but I couldn’t pull my gaze away from her. “She’s married to the guy who took Bohannon’s place at Bones. Name’s Stunner.”

“I’ve heard he runs a tight ship at Bones as their enforcer.” Knight stroked his beard lazily. “Ice and Cyclone were promoted to president and vice president. What do Torpedo and Bohannon plan on doing when you take over again?”

“Not my business,” I answered absently. The woman was with a large man. He towered over her, but he wasn’t as big as me. I could tell by the way he carried himself he was a little high strung. “It’ll be a while before…” I trailed off as I watched the woman speak to the bartender. She and the man she was with were on the other end of the bar. She turned around and I got my first good look at her. At the same time, the guy she was with backhanded her so hard she spun around and fell to the floor of the bar.

Before I could register what was happening, a ferocious, angry roar exploded from me. Because I recognized the woman. And some motherfucker was about to fucking die.

Chapter Two

Hannah

This was it. This was where I died. On a bar floor smelling of beer and piss and vomit… And it’s no more than I fucking deserved.

I smacked my head on the floor when I fell because Dillon hit me so hard it knocked me silly, and I couldn’t protect myself. There was a horrible noise like an angry wild animal, but I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from or what exactly the threat was. Then Dillon’s fist came at me again. I had time to suck in a breath just before the blow landed across my temple and my world tilted sharply as pain exploded through my head again.

I thought I might pass out -- prayed to pass out so the beating would be over when I woke up. Instead, something inside me refused to go down. Even for a minute.

Then Dillon was gone. I whimpered, not sure if I’d been given a reprieve or if he was simply getting rid of someone trying to pull him off me. It had happened more than once in this same club. It was why he brought me here. If he got drunk and hit me, no one would do much. Occasionally someone would try to defend me, but Dillon was a huge man. If he didn’t want to do something, it took some force to make him. We’d both learned that when faced with an enraged giant, most people stayed clear. Oh, they might take out their phones and record the beating, but that was as far as it went. Which rarely helped me.

Closing my eyes, I reached for oblivion with all my heart but I just couldn’t go under. There was a fight going on. I could hear the familiar sound of flesh hitting flesh. Grunts and sickening squishes. My stomach rebelled. I wasn’t sure if it was the smells, the sounds, or the injury to my head, but I was going to hurl and there was no way I could get to the bathroom.

Somehow, I managed to roll over on my stomach and push myself at least part way off the floor. Sure enough, I vomited in an explosive rush. A whimper escaped me when the very last thing I wanted to do was show weakness to not only Dillon, but every motherfucker in this stupid club. I might die right here on this funky-ass floor, but I would do it in silence. Well, except for the retching.

The noise around me was gradually drowned out by the roaring in my ears as I vomited again. Just as I was about to collapse in my own puke, someone wrapped a beefy arm around my waist and pulled me off the floor to my knees.

“Easy there, girl. You’re OK.”

“Get… off… me.” I could barely gasp my words, but I didn’t want anyone touching me.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you, honey. Just tryin’ to get you off the floor.” The guy’s voice was deep and gruff. Not like Dillon’s. And shockingly familiar. I was afraid to look up at him out of fear I was right, and I knew who this guy was. I was also afraid maybe I was dreaming, and it was Dillon. And he was going to finally beat me to death.

“I’ll call Pain and tell him we’ll meet him in the infirmary,” a second man said. I couldn’t get a good look at any of them because my eyes were blurry from the blow to my head and the tears streaming from them after puking my guts up.

“Knight gettin’ the cage?”

“Yeah. Glad you decided not to ride to this meeting.”

“Something felt off from the start. Still feels off. I thought we might need the extra cover if there was too much trouble. Wasn’t plannin’ on this kind a’ trouble, though.”

I turned my head to look up at the guy. Again, he was sickeningly familiar, but my eyes refused to focus on the large blob looking back at me. And honestly, I didn’t want to confirm what I knew in my heart was true. The man who’d come to my rescue was fucking Knuckles. “Don’t want to be no one’s trouble.” It was embarrassing how sulky I sounded. And how hurt.

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