Page 1 of Crown: Phase 4

Chapter One

“You have no idea how crazy this nigga can get.

Crown will cut your fuckin’ head off for that interruption and display it for the whole Hills to see.”

— Smoky

The low rumble of a black van caught everyone’s attention as it pulled into the Council’s clubhouse. A line of Harleys followed right behind it, the Knights rolling in together. The driver’s door opened first. Domo climbed out with a pistol already in his hand before sliding the side door open.

“Move.” He ordered.

Benjamin stumbled out of the van, barely able to catch himself. His face was swollen beyond recognition, and blood stained the front of his chest and stomach. Domo shoved the barrel of his pistol into the middle of his back, forcing him forward.

Conversations slowly died down as the other bikers looked over in shock and curiosity. It was bike night, when all the clubs came together, and everyone wondered where the Knights were. But they hadn’t expected them to show up like this. Some noticed Smoky and Danger were nowhere in sight, and that only left them even more baffled as Crown stepped out of the van next.

He looked like a madman. Shirtless, his tattooed chest and arms were on full display as his dark jeans hung over a pair of black boots stained with blood. His waves weren’t laid like usual. Crown stayed fresh to death, keeping a brush on him, so seeing him like this wasn’t normal. Bloodshot eyes told the story of a man who hadn’t slept, while his bruised and split knuckles made it obvious he’d spent most of the day beating a nigga’s ass. Yet none of that was what drew everyone’s attention. It was the two severed heads hanging from his hands.

Every biker standing outside stared at him in disbelief. Everybody knew the rules. Council grounds were neutral territory. There was no bloodshed, retaliation, or settling scores. You respected the land no matter what club you belonged to. Yet there Crown was, walking straight toward the clubhouse like none of those rules applied to him.

Domo stayed close behind Benjamin, keeping the gun pressed firmly against his back while the rest of the Knights fell in behind them. They hadn’t made it halfway to the entrance before the clubhouse doors flew open. Council guards rushed outside with their weapons drawn, surrounding the walkway as rifles and pistols pointed directly at Crown and Domo. Neither man flinched. Crown never even slowed his pace.

A few seconds later, Hemsworth stepped through the doorway wearing a dark flannel over a black T-shirt. Grim, Hunter, and Prophet followed behind him dressed much the same. Hemsworth’s eyes adjusted to the fading evening light before landing on Crown, then dropping to the heads in his hands. Finally, they shifted to Benjamin. His brows pulled together, unable to make sense of what he was seeing.

Purposely, Prophet stayed a step behind the others, quietly studying Crown. Confusion twisted in his gut. The last time he’d seen him was at his reception, and everything was fine. Last night had ended beautifully…or so he thought.

Hemsworth slowly raised one hand, and 2pac blasting through the speakers was cut off by the DJ.

“Crown,”

“Hem.”

“What the fuck is this? You know the rules of Council grounds. So, tell me why you felt the need to bring this kind of disrespect onto our property.”

“’Cause I was disrespected the night I celebrated with my wife. Lines got crossed again, Hem. And I’m past negotiation. Either you handle these bitch ass niggas…or I will.”

“You watch your tone. The Council takes orders from no one.” Grim snapped, stepping in front of Hemsworth as his hand dropped to his weapon.

Without hesitation, Prophet’s fingers wrapped around the grip of his own pistol. Anybody looking would’ve thought he was on the same type of time as Grim, ready to shoot Crown where he stood over the disrespect shown. But that was far from the truth. Prophet had purposely hung back. He wouldn’t dare let Grim get that shot off. If shit turned ugly, Prophet already knew whose side he’d die on. This wasn’t just about protecting the Knights; Crown was family.

The Council guards closed ranks. The Knights tightened around Crown. For a second, the whole lot felt like it was one move away from a bloodbath. Before either man could make a move, Hemsworth raised his hand again. He noticed Crown staring toward Gunner, who stood near the edge of the lot with his club. Sweat beaded across Gunner’s forehead as he swallowed hard.

“It’s alright.” Hemsworth said.

Grim reluctantly stepped back, spitting on the ground as he sized up each Knight.

“Follow me.” Hemsworth looked from Gunner to Crown before jerking his head toward the clubhouse entrance. Something had happened. Whatever it was, he intended to get to the bottom of it.

As Crown walked past him, Prophet quietly released his grip on his pistol and let out a slow breath of relief before following everyone inside.

Once inside, Hemsworth took his seat at the head of the long table. Grim, Hunter, and Prophet settled into their usual chairs while Crown and Domo stayed standing. Benjamin stood between them in nothing but his boxers, barely able to stay on his feet. His wounded leg shook badly, threatening to give out beneath him.

“Where’s Danger?” Hemsworth asked, his eyes briefly settling on Domo.

“He couldn’t be here today.”

“Hmm. I see. Alright, start talking. What happened, and who the fuck are they?”

Driving his boot into the middle of Benjamin’s back, Crown sent him crashing to his knees. “Tell him what the fuck you told me.” He ordered.