Chaos Bound (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #4)(75)
“Not ready for that yet.” Holt held up a hand. “You keep it for me.”
Tank’s face creased in consternation. “You can’t go into the clubhouse without your cut.”
“Jagger can make an exception for me.” Holt had no idea if Jagger would, in fact, make an exception for him. Three months ago he wouldn’t have even considered challenging Jagger or breaking the rules. But things had changed—he had changed. And if Jagger kicked him out for not wearing his cut, after all he’d been through, he would be glad to go.
He followed Tank through Conundrum, but when they hit the open road heading north out of the city, he flicked the throttle and went flat out, blasting past Tank, a grin on his face. Tank whooped with delight and accelerated, easily matching Holt’s speed since he wasn’t carrying any extra weight. For the next twenty blissful minutes Holt let everything go—Viper, revenge, the Sinners, the uncertainty of his future. He gave himself over to the thrill of the ride, the freedom of the open road, the wind in his face, and the beautiful woman tucked against his back who easily rolled with the flow of his riding style and never second-guessed his decisions.
His respite lasted until they hit the gravel drive leading through the trees to the Sinner clubhouse. Almost immediately, his pulse kicked up a notch and tension tightened his brow. Tank directed him to his old parking spot and then ushered them toward the clubhouse.
Although he had only been away three months, Holt saw everything through new eyes. The former country house they had appropriated from a drug dealer who tried to cheat the club had been renovated to become the new Sinner clubhouse, but little attention had been paid to the exterior. As they climbed the worn, wooden steps up to the porch, Holt saw little things he’d never noticed before: loose boards, rotted railings and a broken screen door. He noticed the blue siding had faded to gray, and the huge front windows were dirty and streaked. Inside was no better: a sea of clutter covered the worn, wooden floors; the chandelier overhead had lost a few pieces, and the red carpet leading up the grand staircase had seen better days. And had the clubhouse always smelled of stale beer and pizza?
He ushered Naiya inside and closed the door behind them. “The place looks like a f*cking frat house after a party.”
Tank gave him a curious stare. “Whaddya you care? You never gave a shit about how it looked before.”
Why did he care? Holt didn’t know, but he felt embarrassed by the state of the clubhouse and ashamed to be part of a club that had no respect for its surroundings.
“This is pristine compared to the Black Jack clubhouse.” Naiya squeezed Holt’s arm and smiled. “They had so many pizza boxes lying around, they used to have competitions to see who could build the biggest stack, and there were things living in the corners—all sorts of critters.”
Holt knew what she was doing, appreciated her effort. She was like Tank in so many ways.
“It’s early,” Tank said, his face falling as they walked through the empty living room. “No one’s around, but the executive board is due to meet in ten minutes so you can meet the big guns first.”
Holt stared at the worn brown couch where he and Tank had watched crime shows and played video games with Hacker. His gaze traveled to the multitude of pictures of girls, bikes and girls on bikes on the walls. He and Tank had put up many of those pictures, given carte blanche by the senior patch to decorate in any manner they saw fit. But now, with Naiya at his side, those choices seemed crass, almost juvenile.
He heard voices in the meeting hall, a huge room that they had created by knocking down most of the walls on the main floor. Tank’s face lit up and he raced ahead.
“It’s Jagger and Cade, and I’ll bet the rest of the board is with them. Wait here and I’ll tell them I’ve got a surprise.”
“I’ll stay here,” Naiya said after Tank disappeared into the next room. “Give you some space to meet your brothers.”
“I want you there.” He threaded his hand through hers, pulled her to his side.
Pain flickered cross her face. “I don’t belong here. I’m sure the Sinners are all good guys, but being in a clubhouse again makes my skin crawl. What if someone recognizes me?”
Holt cursed under his breath. He hadn’t even thought about how hard it would be for Naiya to come to a clubhouse after what had happened to her. But he couldn’t imagine seeing Jagger and the rest of the brothers alone. He needed her to ground him, to keep the beast that still hungered for revenge at bay, to shake some sense into him if he lost track of who he was now and what he needed to do.
“Anyone touches you, threatens you, hurts you in any way, I’ll gut them like a f*cking fish. And that will be the warm-up.”
She gave him a resigned smile. “Okay, but if I’m in the way, just let me know. I’m more than happy to wander around outside or guard your bike.”
“You will never be in my way, darlin’. You are the way.”
He took a deep breath and waded through the debris toward the main hall.
Show time.
*
“Hold up, everyone!” Tank burst into the meeting room, barely able to contain his excitement. Jagger and Zane stopped mid-conversation and Gunner scowled.
“Watch your mouth when you’re talking to the president, junior patch. Unless someone’s dead, dying, or come back from the grave, it’s bad manners to interrupt, even if the board’s not in session yet.”