our door, Reign, but Priest is down there now telling them what’s happening and what he expects from them. He wouldn’t be doing that for just anyone. He might have a fucked-up way of showing it, but he does care.”
She chews on her damn lip again, looking up at me with those big brown soulful eyes of hers I could so easily get lost in.
“They left you up here to soften me up because I hate you less than them, didn’t they?” she asks with narrowed eyes, making me laugh.
“You don’t hate them. You’re just pissed and that’s okay as long as you keep it behind closed doors. You can’t disrespect them or me in front of the club though, Reign, you get that, don’t you?”
I question her because this is something she needs to know right now. I hate having to throw her in the deep end like this, but if she crosses a line, the MC will expect us to treat her like anyone else, which means punishment of some kind.
She sighs grumpily. “I’m not going to do that.”
“You punched Bates in the face,” I remind her.
“Anymore,” she amends with a huff.
I have to fight back the grin to continue. “If you had been in any other MC...” I let my voice trail off because I know she’s smart enough to fill in the blanks.
“I get it, Saint, I do. My question is this. Is the rule one-sided? Can Bates or any of you belittle me and talk to me like trash in front of the rest of the club, and if so, am I expected to take it?”
I don’t answer her for a minute while I try to think about how to word it without her temper erupting.
“The MC bylaws were written by men, for men over three decades ago. Some have been updated, but most still favor the MC members themselves,” I hedge.
“So yes then, is basically what you’re saying. Fan-freaking-tastic.” She tries to roll away but I won’t let her.
“Reign, you’re reading too much into this. It’s going to be fine.” I’ll make sure of it, but I need to talk to Bates first. He’s too much of a hothead who reacts first and thinks second. If he had pulled that stunt earlier in front of the club… I shut that thought down, thankful as fuck it didn’t play out that way.
“Sure, Saint, whatever you say. Can I make my calls now, or do I have to wait for the other kings of the castle?” she questions, sounding tired, just as the door swings open.
“Started without us, I see,” Bates says sarcastically, taking in Reign’s body pinned beneath mine.
Gritting my teeth, I have to fight the urge to climb off the bed and punch him in the face when her body goes rock solid beneath me, undoing everything I had just done to get her to see things from our point of view.
“Bates, leave it,” Priest snaps.
Reign doesn’t say anything as I roll off her and let her sit up. She slides to the end of the bed, not noticing or not caring that she’s flashing me her black panties, and waits patiently for someone to say something. When they don’t, she looks up at Priest.
“Can I call them now, please?” she asks him quietly as she fiddles with the hem of her T-shirt.
He nods, crossing his arms over his chest as he waits. She grabs her phone off the nightstand and dials the number, putting it on speakerphone. It rings and rings and rings before eventually going to voicemail.
“You have some serious explaining to do Derek,” she snaps, before hanging up and moving on to the next number. This time it rings twice before a voice answers.
“Reign?” She visibly deflates when the voice on the other end calls her name, making me instantly want to offer her some comfort, but I don’t think she wants that right now. If anything, her posture screams back off.
“Daddy,” she whispers.
“Jesus, Reign, where the fuck are you?” he growls, but I can hear the relief in his voice from here.
“I can’t tell you that, but I can tell you I’m safe. I promise.” Her voice wobbles at that, and I vow silently that we will keep her safe, no matter what.
“Come home, Reign,” he begs, but she shakes her head.
“I’ve already told you why I can’t. Not without putting you all in danger. Did you move in with Travis?”