But I had to be careful about how I was going to ask for this. Keep had a good relationship with the police chief, a relationship that was important, too—especially if you wanted to stay on the straight and narrow like Keep did. He made sure the club maintained a low profile with the law and stayed out of trouble.
Well, we weren’t called the Knights in Shining Armor. We were the Knights of Ruin for a reason. But that reason didn’t include drugs or whores or guns or any of that shit. We did the usual MC stuff for cash: a strip club, a couple of garages around town and a good bit of protection and hired muscle work. But we weren’t in it for the money. We were in it because we wanted to ride and live free, our brothers by our side.
I was in it because the Knights were my family—certainly more of a family than my own had been—and I wanted it to stay that way. I didn’t want to rock the boat.
Except this thing with Annie might just do a shitload of rocking.
I had to try, though. For Cat’s sake.
‘Yeah, something’s up.’ I met Keep’s gaze. ‘It’s got to do with Justin Grant.’
Keep’s blue eyes narrowed. ‘Campbell Grant’s son?’
‘Unfortunately.’
He sighed and unlinked his hands, sitting forward in his chair, folding his arms and leaning his elbows on the desk. ‘Fuck’s sake, Smoke. Not again.’
I fought a hot rush of irritation. Everyone knew I hated Grant’s guts because of Cat, and that if I’d had my way I would have put him in the ground with no regrets if I could have got away with it. But I’d never actually put a move on him. So Keep getting pissed at me was annoying.
Still, I knew where Keep was coming from.
Yet this was Cat. And that was a whole other story.
So I swallowed my anger, kept my posture loose and held his gaze steadily. ‘If it was just about Grant being a dick, I’d agree with you. But last night he didn’t return Annie, and when I caught up with them I found him putting her into a car with a big suitcase.’ I paused. ‘He didn’t look like he was planning on coming back, Keep.’
There was no expression at all on Keep’s face. He was good at hiding his emotions.
‘So? He’s the kid’s father.’
Keep knew all about Cat and Annie. He knew Cat was the only thing that kept me sane, the only bright spot in the entire damn world when things had got really dark. He knew what she meant to me and he knew why this was important.
The motherfucker was playing devil’s advocate.
‘And Cat is Annie’s mother,’ I said flatly. ‘He doesn’t have any right to take Annie away from her.’
Keep lifted a shoulder. ‘Sounds like custody drama to me. Let them sort it out themselves. Got nothing to do with us.’
‘Grant’s going to come back,’ I went on, ignoring him. ‘He’s promised to get a court order giving him sole custody. And because he’s a lawyer, and full of shit, he’s going to tell them about Cat working nights and about how she’s got a biker boyfriend, that it’s dangerous for Annie to be around her.’
‘Yeah, okay. I hear you. But, again, what’s that got to do with us?’ Keep’s stare was sharp. ‘I know Cat’s important to you, but this isn’t club business. I got a whole lot of things going on now, and I don’t need any attention from the police. If the club gets involved with this...’
Frustration rose, but I swallowed it down, playing it cool. ‘I know all that. But we have to do something. That prick hurt Cat. And I’ll be damned if he does it again.’
Keep let out a breath. ‘She’s your friend—I get it. And the kid is cute. No doubt about it. But I’m saying no. We can’t afford the heat it would bring down. Not now.’
Fuck. If it had been anyone else, I would have let it go. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Cat. And I hadn’t been able to protect her from Justin last time, which meant I was not going to fail again.
‘Keep,’ I said clearly, levelly. ‘I’ve never asked you for anything. Not one single fucking thing. Not even when that shit went down with Dad. But I’m asking you now. I need you to help Cat and Annie.’
Keep’s blue eyes turned cold. He was an easygoing guy on the surface, but that only went so far. There was a reason he was club president, and it wasn’t because he was a walkover.
‘No.’ His voice was very quiet. ‘That’s my final answer. I’m not saying it again.’
I knew that tone. It was his presidential do-not-fuck-with-me tone. No one argued with that—not if they liked their balls hanging where they were.
But I had a line, too. And Cat was it.
‘If they were ours, you would, right?’ A stupid question, since it should have gone without saying. I had to check, though.
‘You know I would. But they’re not.’
No, they weren’t.
Yet.
I leaned back in my chair, an idea going around and around in my head. Because that motherfucker Justin was not going to hurt her again. Over my dead fucking body.
Luckily, there was another option.
Unluckily, Cat was going to hate it.
There was only one way to make Cat and Annie part of the Knights, and that was for me to take her as my old lady.
I couldn’t deny that it was something I’d wanted for years—a secret fantasy that wouldn’t ever make it into reality since Cat didn’t feel that way about me. But, shit, we could fake it, couldn’t we? Make it look like we were together at least enough for the rest of the MC to believe it and protect her, if and when Grant came gunning for her.
Are you sure she doesn’t feel that way about you?
I blinked, the thought hitting me hard. Where the hell had that come from? Admittedly her behaviour last night had been weird—not looking me in the eye and getting all strange and tense when I got near her. Then, when I’d brought up the topic of that blow job, she’d blushed. Like she was the one embarrassed about it.
Still, discussing your best friend’s blow job would be pretty embarrassing for a chick.
So why did you put your hands in the pockets of her jeans?
I shifted uncomfortably in the chair.
Never in all the years we’ve been friends had I touched her like that. In fact I’d never made one single move on her, even though sometimes I wanted to so bad I was like a junkie in search of a fix. She was my friend. End of. Besides, I knew how she felt about MCs.
To say she wasn’t the Knights’ greatest fan was a severe understatement.
Anyway, I still didn’t know what had made me slide my hands into the back pockets of her jeans, feel the heat of her against my palms, pull her close. She was trying to avoid me and I simply wanted to hold her there so we could talk about it.
Yeah, sure. You fucking liar.
I shifted again, my palms stinging from the memory. Fuck, she’d felt hot. Then she’d put her hands on my chest and it was like I’d been plugged into a goddamn wall socket. She’d touched me plenty of times before and it had never felt like that—mainly because I’d trained myself to ignore my reactions around her.
She’d been blushing, too. Had touching me done something for her?
‘Jesus, Smoke,’ Keep muttered. ‘You got a problem or something? You’re shifting around like a two-year-old needing the potty.’
Mother fuck. If I wasn’t