The room had gone quiet around us, brothers gathering closer. The ones with ol’ ladies standing beside their women.
“It means loyalty,” he continued. “It means safety. It means the club knows you’re under my protection."
His thumb tapped the stitched words across the back.
“Brothers come first in this life. The club always does.”
That was the rule. Everyone in the room knew it. But then he looked at me, softer.
“And you belong here because you’re mine.”
I remember asking him quietly, “And if I say yes… there’s no taking it off?”
Declan smiled.
“No.”
Then he leaned closer, voice low enough that only I heard it.
“Once you wear my cut, you’re one of us.”
I gave him a shaky nod and he slid the cut on me. The room erupted in cheers and hollers as he pulled me into his arms delivering a bruising kiss.
A knock hits the door, sharp and unexpected. I jump, coming back to the present. My heart slams into my ribs before I can stop it. I know it isn’t Clutch, he would never knock.
Silence follows.
Then another knock.
“Bex,” a voice calls through the door. “It’s Ledger. Time to head downstairs.”
I exhale slowly, take a steadying breath and then drag the dresser away from the door. The wood scrapes loudly, leaving a defined mark in the floor. I unlock the door and pull it open.
Ledger stands waiting for me in the hallway. Sebastian Ibarra always looks like he stepped out of a different world than the rest of the club. He’s built lean, with dark hair combed back neatly and tied loosely at the nape of his neck. Sharp cheekbones and dark brown eyes that never seem to miss anything.
His gaze drops briefly to the floor, to the scrape mark and then to the dresser pushed halfway across the room.
He looks back at me.
“You had the door blocked?”
I cross my arms over my chest.
He waits. But, I don’t answer.
Ledger glances at the dresser again.
“You know that’s a fire hazard, right?” He says it completely straight faced. Not joking or teasing. Just stating a fact.
I glare at him.
“Noted.” he grumbles.
Footsteps pass behind him in the hallway. One of the brothers slows as he walks by, he gives me a once-over and smirks.
“You know,” he says casually, “people might like you better if you smiled more.”
I tilt my head slightly, giving him the same once over he gave me.