blood, both men Keys respected the hell out of. They knew what Keys had told them about his past. He hadn’t lied to them when he’d been patched in as a brother, although he hadn’t told them everything. They’d accompanied him to Twisted Ink, the tattoo shop King and he had met the first time. Tymber inked his skin, nobody making mention of the words he’d had down his side. The Navy would always be a part of him, losing his team was like losing a part of himself, but among the MC, he’d found true friendship that went deeper. A brotherhood. Could he drag them down to where he came from and still have their respect? With the Royal Bastards, he wasn’t the worthless little shit down the dirt road nobody wanted, but a man who had skills they needed and appreciated. He was more than just a soldier who was paid to get shit done. More than a SEAL who others gave a wide berth.
“I thought you were from California?” Traeger asked.
Keys looked at his fist, rubbing a thumb across his knuckles. “This is where my life started. Out here in California. Missouri is where my other life ended.”
Silence met his words.
“Alright, I’m gonna need a little more than that, brother. What the fuck happened in Missouri? Did you kill someone?” King asked.
A laugh escaped his tight throat, his shoulders relaxing as the leader of the Royal Sons asked a question about death, murder to be precise, like it was a normal occurrence. “Nah, I didn’t. Wish I fucking did, but”—he turned to face the men he respected above all others, preparing to lose their respect—“I don’t know who my parents are. I was picked up out of the garbage and given to a family who then treated me accordingly.”
“You saying the family who adopted you treated you like shit?” Duke bit out.
“They didn’t adopt me. They allowed me to live with them. Well, I wouldn’t say live with them so much as live in their vicinity. Some nights I got to sleep under their roof; some I didn’t. Although, I wished like hell I could’ve ran away and slept anywhere else, the town I lived in would’ve returned me to them, then the beatings would’ve been worse. So yeah, I stuck it out until I was eighteen, then I joined the military and never planned to return until I got an email from a ghost from my past.”
“You gonna share with the class what the fuck that means?”
King looked ready to spit nails. Keys paced back and forth, hating to bring the club into his shit. “Fuck, I don’t want to. Listen, I know you think that’s what’s best, but the people who run the town, they have long reaching arms and money. Old money, brother. The last thing I want to do is bring their attention to the Royal Sons.”
King and Duke stared at him, then each other, their expressions hard to read. Keys was sure they were going to nod and agree. Just as he was preparing to pick his bag up, the two crazy sons of bitches tossed their heads back, laughter rolling from them. He stared at one then the other, waiting for them to stop. Traeger chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as if he had nothing to say.
“What the fuck?” he asked.
“We’ve taken down human traffickers, cartels with women and children in lockdown, fucking the worst of the worst, in their homes. They had fire power most countries envied, yet we went in and took back what they shouldn’t have had, along with their money, drugs, weapons. We’re talking men who had more money than surely these good ole boys you speak of. Yet you’re scared they’ll come here and do what?” King asked, wiping beneath his eyes.
“I don’t know, dammit. For the first fifteen years of my life I was too little to fight back. The last three they learned really quick I was done being their punching bag, so they found something else to punish me with. Do you know what it’s like to go to sleep night after night hungry? I do. They made sure nobody else gave me a handout. I couldn’t get a job in town either. I went to school, but even there I couldn’t eat, because I didn’t have lunch money. I was that kid who ate out of the trash whatever was thrown away. Yeah, I was that desperate. Maybe I’m making them bigger, meaner,