Page 19 of Ruined (The Knights of Ruin)

‘So,’ I said carefully, busying myself with folding the cloths again. ‘Let me get this straight. You think that if you make me your old lady, the club will protect me and Annie from Justin.’

‘I don’t think. I know.’ He said it like the gospel truth, handed down from God himself.

‘I thought your president didn’t want to get on the wrong side of the police chief. If Justin comes after Annie and the club stops him...’ I let the sentence hang.

‘Checked it out with Keep this morning.’ Smoke put his hands flat on the bar. ‘He won’t lift a finger if you’re not part of the Knights. But if you’re one of us, you’ll have an army at your back. Club comes first, and the chief can go fuck himself.’

Club comes first.

Wasn’t that the lesson I’d learned all through my childhood? That the club, the brothers were the most important things in my father’s life.

My mother had learned that lesson, too, when she was still a silly socialite, falling for a badass biker with tats on his arms and a gleaming Harley. She’d thought he was going to give her the freedom from her wealthy family that she’d always craved. Instead he’d given her a one-way ticket to Junkieville.

He never married her—never made her his old lady. He got her pregnant, then left her in a shitty apartment trying to bring up his kid by herself because her family had cut her off. And the only reason she’d stayed was because he kept her in drugs.

Oh, yeah, and apparently she loved him, even though he used to hit her sometimes.

A real prince, my dad.

To this day I have no idea why he didn’t make her his old lady. It was like he thought we weren’t good enough to be part of his precious club—like it was far too special to share with us. Not that we wanted to be part of it... Or at least I didn’t.

I hated him and, because of its influence on him, I hated that club.

I hated the Knights for their influence on Smoke, too. The day he told me he was going to sign up to be a prospect I didn’t speak to him for two whole weeks. I didn’t want him to join. I didn’t want them to take him away from me.

We got over that years ago, but sometimes I still felt the betrayal of it.

Like now.

‘Cat.’ Carl’s voice behind me was mean with annoyance. ‘You’ve still got fifteen minutes. Get back to work.’

Smoke pushed himself sharply back from the bar.

‘Don’t—’ I began.

But it was too late.

‘She’s finishing early tonight.’

Smoke’s voice had that hard, flat quality it got whenever he was giving orders. Or stating facts. Or making decisions. Not that there was any difference between them.

‘Excuse me?’ Carl sounded pissed. ‘Are you her fucking boss?’

‘Smoke, don’t.’ The last thing I needed was trouble with Carl. It was shitty work, and the pay was terrible, but I needed it. Especially when my day job barely paid the bills.

But Smoke ignored me, digging his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans and grabbing a couple of bills out of it. He tossed the bills down on the bar.

‘Here. Her pay for the last fifteen minutes of her shift.’ His black gaze shifted to me. ‘Come on. We need to talk.’

I glanced at the money on the bar—I really did get paid shit—then turned to Carl.

‘Carl, look,’ I said. ‘Smoke didn’t—’

‘I don’t care what he did or didn’t do. I told you I didn’t want him hanging around here, and yet here he is.’ Carl grimaced, then jerked his head towards the exit. ‘Go on—get out of here.’

‘But I—’

‘And don’t come back.’

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