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“How the fuck do you know?” I ground out, unable to keep my tone light.

“I’m the president of this charter.” He took a leisurely pull of his beer. “It’s my job to know shit that threatens the club.”

I gripped the back of my neck “I would never threaten the club.”

“Not on purpose,” he amended. “And I know you didn’t enter into shit with her lightly. Didn’t do it ’cause you wanted young pussy.”

Red crept along the corners of my gaze. “I’d be really fuckin’ careful how you speak about my woman, or I’ll forget you’re my president.” I meant every word.

I respected the fuck out of Hansen. Considered him to be a brother. Would be eternally grateful to him for giving me the club. But I wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him if he talked about Violet like that.

Instead of getting pissed at me or readying to fight, the fucker’s lips curved into it a grin. “Yeah, I thought so,” he muttered. “It seems this charter is destined to have the same curse as Amber when it comes to Old Ladies. Courtships are never peaceful. Never boring, and each is more fuckin’ dramatic than the last.” His gaze wandered over our brothers and their Old Ladies. “This is gonna be messy, gonna ’cause shit in the club. I might’ve told you to end it, if I’d caught it early enough. But I doubt there was a time when it would’ve been early enough,” he sighed.

He’d be fucking right on that. Violet had been mine from the moment I laid eyes on her. Nothing could’ve changed that.

“You want me out of this charter?” I asked him seriously.

It made sense. I was a recent patch. Didn’t have the same roots here that Swiss did.

“No fuckin’ way,” Hansen’s eyes flared with surprise. “You’re family.”

Those simple words hit me somewhere deep.

“We’re a fucked-up family,” he continued, “and sometimes families fight,” he shrugged. “Let’s not draw blood at a kid’s birthday party, though. Have a beer. Lock it down. There will be plenty of time for the truth later.” He gave me a slap on the back. “No one is gonna make you leave this charter, brother. Not even him.” He nodded to Swiss.

Then he walked away, to be with his woman.

I waited for mine, a weight off my shoulders but that lingering sense of dread not entirely gone.

VIOLET

“How am I going to tell Swiss?” I asked Mom, taking the mascara wand she handed me.

We were in her and Swiss’s bathroom, both of us reapplying our makeup. The stone counters and double sinks were beautiful, the tones similar to Mom’s restaurant, leaning toward a desert vibe, neutrals and rough textures.

The counters were littered with beauty products, perfumes. It was clean but not painstakingly organized like her other bathroom had been.

Although this was only the beginning of what I guessed was going to be a very long, complicated and possibly violent journey, I felt much lighter.

I’d cried for what seemed like hours.

But no one had sent a search party, and Swiss would definitely come looking for his wife if she was out of his sight for too long.

Elden would look for me too. I knew that. No matter where I walked in this world, he’d be beside me. Or not far behind.

“You’re not going to tell him anything,” my mother said firmly, looking at me in the mirror. “Nor is Elden, though you’re probably going to have to convince him on that because he’ll surely have some ideas about having a ‘man to man’ talk with my husband.” She rolled her eyes. “The only reason I know he’s not doing it right now is because it’s a child’s birthday party, and even though Declan is going to grow up to be a badass, one is a little young to witness a gunfight.”

I felt the blood leave my face. “Do you think Swiss will really hurt him?”

“He’ll want to,” she squeezed my arm. “These men are wonderful and unlike any other, but they are alsomenat the end of the day. And when it comes to those they care about, those they think it’s their job to protect, they tend to err on the side of violence because they seem to think that solves everything.” She rolled her eyes again. “It’s probably not going to be pretty,” she sighed. “And it’s probably going to take Swiss some time. Swiss may be reactive and overly dramatic, but he is also a romantic.” She winked. “He loves you and just wants you to be happy.”

I put the mascara down, relieved.

“Plus, when he finds out you're pregnant, he’s not going to kill or maim the father of his grandchild,” she added with a wink.

That really did not make me feel better.

“Ready?” she asked.


Tags: Anne Malcom Romance