where her kids were concerned, and the fact that she’d go to hell and back to make sure we were safe.
❖
Keys
As I stared at the brothers around me who were in the middle of getting their cocks sucked or fucked by clubwhore pussy, I drank more of my beer and settled in for the show.
I had no intention of getting my dick wet. Not tonight. There was too much at stake. This was my first run, and I didn’t intend to fuck shit up by getting drunk on booze or pussy. Nope, I needed my wits about me because I wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity.
Prospects didn’t usually go on runs. We stuck to the clubhouse, did shitty chores, handled whatever the brothers wanted us to do—be it walk their monster dogs or get them a beer. Until we were patched in, we were their fucking slaves, but it was a rite of passage that we all moaned about, but we respected too.
Every single brother in the MC had walked in my boots and that united us. Would tie us together even more when we went from being a Prospect to a full-fledged member of the club.
So, my presence here was more than unusual, and the reason was the fact that my pop was banged up and had made the request of the Prez.
The reason?
My sister.
She’d run off to the Satan’s Knights a few years back, and Pop had heard whispers that her old man was beating her up. I was here to make sure that wasn’t true, and if it was, to show him how he should be respecting her.
So far, I hadn’t even seen her, which was suspicious in itself—
“The fuck?” Saint growled out, jerking me from my thoughts.
When I peered where he was staring, I saw a woman waddling toward us. I had to blink a few times before I registered exactly who it was, and when I recognized the woman as being Kenzie, I leaped to my feet and hurried over to her.
She snuggled into my arms the minute I was there, and if I hadn’t seen the makeup plastered onto her face, anyone would think she was just happy to see her bro. But no, Kenzie wasn’t a hugger. She wasn’t affectionate. Never had been. Never would be.
Yet… here she was, hugging me like she was gluing us together, and it was weird. Weird as fuck.
I patted her back, and even though I was used to hugs because Ama was very tactile—thank fuck for that—I just wasn’t used to them with my sister. Yeah, sad, I knew, but it just made this even weirder.
“Jamie,” she whispered, using my real name and not my road name.
“Kenzie, what the fuck is going on? How come this is the first time I’ve heard you’re pregnant?”
She gulped, burrowing further into my arms. “Can you get me away from here?”
I pulled back, tipped her chin up, and stared at her. She had thickly coated foundation on her cheekbones and around her eyes, and her nose had a definite bump to it that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen her.
“Is he knocking you around?” Of course, I could see that with my own fucking eyes—I wasn’t a dumb fuck—but she had to admit that to me. Had to say it to me before I could do anything to help her.
She was raining shit down on us, and she didn’t even fucking know it. Wars were started over old ladies, and this was even worse because she was carrying the fucker’s baby.
“Y-Yes,” she whispered, sounding so miserable that for a second, it was hard to connect her voice to the one I’d heard screeching at me for most of my life.
Kenzie and I hadn’t had the best of relationships growing up. She was six years older than me, liked me to know that, and had usually been the first to talk smack about me to our parents. She was a snitch, and I’d had my ass whooped too many times to count because of her, but all that shit fell away in the face of her misery and hurt.
At her admission, I squeezed her tightly and mumbled, “Come and sit with me?”
“Yeah. Hex is over there,” she murmured, pointing to the fucker who was her old man. Seeing him feeling up a sweetbutt, not having taken the fucking time or shown me the respect of introducing himself to me burned. Hard.
Nodding my understanding, I shot Saint a look and