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Ah. There it was. This wasn’t by happenstance. Their international president sent Frog to them. There was nothing to discuss. If their president put Frog there, he stayed.

Kev nodded. “We’ll sleep on it.”

What the hell? Kid restrained his reaction and kept his eyes on Frog, but what was his brother saying? They couldn’t deny Frog. Not only was he a full patch, but Jameson told him to come to them. They couldn’t even vote on this. He was in. The head asshole in charge decreed it. If Kev went against that, he might as well sign his own death certification.

Frog cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brows. He seemed just as surprised as everyone else at the table. Kevlar wasn’t a stupid man, but this was crazy as hell.

Wait.

Kid had to think logically. While they may not have a say in whether Frog joined their chapter, they did get to decide if he was an officer or not. So, yes. He was a member, but what kind? His position didn’t matter. Jameson had mandated this.

Frog stroked the stubble on his chin with one hand and lifted his drink with the other. His expression appeared contemplative while he took a sip.

“Official vote tomorrow,” Kevlar said as he rose to his feet.

The rest of the men joined him in standing.

“As for tonight.” Kev grinned and looked from one guy to the other. “Let’s welcome a brother home.”

9

Carrie

The Knucklehead was loud. The crowd was thick. People around Carrie were having the time of their lives. Practically cowering in the corner, she was trapped. The walls closed in on her. When had this massive bar become so small? Fleeing at this point seemed impossible. She’d have to walk through the sea of patrons.

What if someone grabbed her?

This was a bad idea. She shouldn’t have come here. With panic strangling her, she turned toward Kelsey and was ready to admit defeat. Carrie had rushed this. She’d gone too big. Friday night at the Knucklehead was too much for her.

“You good?” Kid’s voice flowed over her, soothing every nerve on the verge of exploding.

Carrie shifted her attention to her savior. He bent over the table, laying his palm on it, and filled her field of vision. He wore a concerned expression as his gaze skimmed over her. She could breathe again.

“I can get you out the back door if you want,” he suggested, thumbing over his shoulder toward a fire exit.

Inhaling deeply, she allowed a renewed calm to wash over her. Colt had returned. She was safe. “I’m okay.” She nodded.

He eyed her skeptically as he rose to his full height.

“Really.” She shook her head and waved a hand, dismissing the feelings that had moments ago overwhelmed her. “I had a moment.”

Taking a chance, she reached for him and rubbed from his wrist up his forearm and down again. He didn’t shy away from her touch. If anything, he seemed frozen by the gesture. In all the months he’d stayed with her, they hadn’t so much as bumped into each other. This was a first. The invisible barrier between them had dissipated. Her heart swelled with optimism.

Maybe she had healed.

“I’m fine now,” she repeated the affirmation.

His lips tightened into a fine line as he reluctantly took a seat beside her. “Bushie,” he called to the prospect.

The burly brute of a man who had stood guard by their table turned toward Kid as Kevlar returned with Frog. Torch paused and stood beside the guy with the prospect patch.

“Get lemon drops for everyone.” Kid made a circular motion with his index finger. “I’ll have a rum and coke.” He flicked his attention to Carrie and Kelsey. “Ladies, would you like anything?”

“Vodka cranberry for me,” Kelsey said, lifting her half-drunk glass.

Carrie eyed her nearly finished beer that she’d been nursing all evening. Before, she thought nothing of getting buzzed on a night out. Shots, beers, cocktails, she loved them all. Sometimes other stuff too. She never turned down a good time.

That was then. This was now.