“King,” Grace said, her hand on his arm. “It’s a good idea.”
“Son, take her to Louisiana. I have men there. She’ll have plenty of men to watch over her.”
My brother looked at Romeo, his shoulders dropping in defeat. “Call Gator. Tell him we’ll be there in two days.”
“Come on, honey, let’s get you home so you can pack.” I stood up with my mother.
Looking at my father, I asked, “Are you coming too?”
“I have something I have to take care of.” He glanced at my brother, who nodded. “But I’ll see you soon.”
He kissed my cheek and Mac hugged me tight, then they both said goodbye. It wasn’t until they disappeared down the mountain that I understood.
“Where is he going?” I asked my brother.
“He didn’t tell me.” My brother shrugged, but he wouldn’t look me in the eye.
“Bullshit. You know where he’s going, don’t you?”
“Morgan, he’s your father.”
I grabbed his arm and begged, “King, you need to call him and warn him.”
My brother kissed my forehead and said, “Not a chance in hell. Let’s go get you packed.”
“King, thank you,” he said as he shook the hand of the Sons of Hell president.
“Take care of our girl,” he told my brother.
I smiled as he pulled me in for a hug. One by one, the brothers and their wives from the Sons of Hell said goodbye as if they thought they would never see me again.
I spent the evening getting to know my brother again and Grace, whom I absolutely loved, especially for him. My mom and I talked with Indie and Mimic, though Mimic didn’t do much more than grunt or nod.
I packed what I needed, and we spent the night with my mother. She had a guest room for King and Grace. My brother refused to let me stay home alone.
I slept in my mother’s bed with her, and we talked until the early morning. We cried when we said goodbye. I begged her to come with us, but she said no, explaining that someone needed to be there for the spa.
The ride to New Orleans was quiet and long; we stopped overnight, King not wanting Grace to be in the SUV that long.Romeo led the way, and by the following evening, we were parked in the French Quarter in front of the Bourbon Bar.
The air was humid as we climbed out of the SUV. The music from the bar could be heard on the street through the open windows. King looked around, skeptical that the area was safe.
“Leave the bags. Let’s go inside first,” he said, taking Grace’s hand. I followed behind him with Romeo and Grace’s father, Popeye, on either side of me. Mimic and Indie taking up the rear.
The smell in the air was a mix of jasmine, magnolias, and fried food. The scent of sugar being the strongest.
We stepped inside the bar, and Gator called out, “GRACIE!”
King stopped short, and I ran into his back, as Grace let go of his hand and was engulfed in Gator’s arms. One by one, the Bourbon Kings stepped forward to hug my brother’s girl.
“I’m impressed with your restraint,” I whispered. “I expected you to be a jealous asshole.”
“Oh, I am. I fucking hate this, but at the same time, I’m so fucking proud of her. Grace worked here for a while when she was younger. These men, the ones who are hugging her and kissing her head, are among the few she has let near her. As much as I want to yank her back, this is a huge step for her.”
“I love you, big brother,” I said.
He looked down at me and pulled me against his side. “I love you too, little sister.”
“MORGAN!”