Page 10 of Under Kid’s Protection

He furrowed his brows and returned his attention to her. They’d never discussed their arrangement, but Vanessa wasn’t new to sleeping with a biker. Before Diesel, she was passed around to nearly every brother in the Roughneck Riders. Then she got knocked up. Diesel said the kid was his and gave her a property vest.

Those days were behind her. She wasn’t an old lady anymore. Kid hadn’t so much as put her on the back of his bike, let alone given her his patch. So, where was this coming from?

“I don’t have time for this,” he said, holding his hands, palms up, toward her. “We’ll talk about it later.”

She scoffed, but he paid her no mind and continued to move through the bar. Hopefully, she’d get the hint and find someone else. From what he’d heard, Torch and Lionel were single. If she were chasing patches, she could start there. Even though Lionel was still technically a prospect, he’d earned his patch. Kev simply wanted to wait until their clubhouse officially opened.

Which should be soon. Kid thought he ran into delays with the renovations for his studio, but they were nothing compared to the shit show that was their clubhouse. Taking over a convalescent home and converting it into a base for bikers seemed like a genius idea. Except for the fact that the building had been severely neglected.

Maybe one day they’d have an official residence, but for now, they’d keep using the stock room of the Knucklehead. So far, for recruitment, it’d been an excellent way to sniff out potential members. Considering Jerry, the owner, was an old friend of the family, the arrangement worked.

Ducking this way and that, Kid avoided getting a beer spilled on him by a drunk woman singing along with the band. His eyes found his target—their reserved spot.

His brother sat at their table talking with someone who had his back to Kid. From there, Kid noted the familiar crowned skull flanked by motorcycles and wings—the logo of the Royal Bastards—but he couldn’t make out the bottom rocker.

Kevlar hadn’t told him anyone was coming from another chapter. What could this be about?

7

Carrie

So many people. Carrie had forgotten just how popular the Knucklehead was. Especially on a Friday night when they had a live band. Thankfully, Kelsey’s boyfriend, Kevlar, had a table permanently reserved. If he hadn’t, she doubted they would’ve found one at the hour they arrived. Without a buffer between her and the crowd, she wasn’t so sure she could last in a horde like this.

With both hands on her pint of liquid courage, she filled her lungs again before letting the breath out slowly. She could do this. She’d done the work and had the tools.

“Is that Kid?” Kelsey asked, bumping her shoulder.

Carrie glanced from her beer to see her lanky, heavily tattooed, shaggy-haired roommate sauntering toward them. Wearing his Royal Bastards MC: OKC cut, which proclaimed him to be the vice president of the club, he approached the table with his steely gaze locked on the man Kevlar spoke to.

She hadn’t paid much attention to the guy when he’d arrived a few minutes ago. Kevlar seemed to be acquainted with him, but the way Kid looked at him had her hackles rising.

Did he know him? Was there bad blood between them? Why was he so pissed?

The skepticism painted on Kid’s features didn’t speak to familiarity.

Prickly anxiety crept across Carrie’s skin. She didn’t want to be at a table with someone Kid didn’t trust. Inching closer to Kelsey, she kept her eye on Kid. If he gave even the slightest hint that there was trouble, she’d book it out of there.

Well aware this was a symptom of her hyperawareness and possibly an overreaction, she did her best not to tremble and kept box breathing. Centering herself by staring at Kid kept her from leaping out of her seat and fleeing the bar.

For now.

One gesture… one hint… and she would run. Kid had become her beacon for safety. If he thought things were squirrelly, who was she to say differently?

“Pres,” he greeted Kevlar.

Interesting. She’d been around these two a bunch. Kid never referred to Kevlar in that manner. What was going on?

Kelsey’s boyfriend shifted his gaze to Kid.

The man he spoke with stopped talking and twisted in his seat. He was an older guy, probably in his mid-to-late forties with silver in the stubble on his chin and peppered throughout his short hair. After giving Kid a once-over, he got to his feet.

The slim man had a good three, maybe four inches on Kid, but Carrie’s roommate didn’t seem fazed. The man Kevlar had not introduced to her or Kelsey offered his hand to Kid.

“Name’s Frog,” he said.

Frog?

What was with the oddball road names? Weren’t they supposed to be intimidating? She couldn’t imagine anyone being frightened by a guy who went by Frog.