Page 75 of I Was Born Ruined (Death by Daybreak MC 1)
He looks at me for a long, long moment, and then he smiles. It’s not a happy expression, but it softens his face anyway, makes him look for the briefest of seconds like he’s approachable, a nice guy with open ears. It’s all bullshit. At least Grainger and Sin and Beast, they don’t try to pretend to be something they’re not. They’re murderers, outlaws, assholes at best. I think Crown really does consider himself to be different somehow.
“You’re not the first person to ignore my advice,” he mumbles, turning away again.
“Huh?”
I take a step forward, but Crown doesn’t look at me, doesn’t bother to explain himself. I don’t really expect him to, but my interest is piqued. Instead, I sit down on one of the two chairs and try not to think about Queenie, sitting here and singing nursery rhymes under her breath as she rubbed her belly.
I swallow hard, and clench the sides of the chair, but Crown doesn’t seem to notice. He’s just sitting on his bike, straddling the seat like he’s about to take off. It’s a beautiful bike, too, an Indian Chieftain Classic in teal and white. I have the strongest urge to run my hand across it, but I know better than to simply touch someone else’s ride. Motorcycles are sacred in club culture.
“You’re not going to tell Cat what you saw, are you?” I ask, and I hate how weak and young my voice sounds. I don’t care what Cat knows. There’s nothing he can do to me that matters. But … I don’t want Beast to get in trouble. His life is his own, and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I fucked it up.
“You mean you and Beast fucking?” Crown looks back at me like I’m crazy. It’s still pitch dark out here, but even though I can’t see his face, I can tell he’s pissed off at me. “I’m the vice president, Gidge.”
“So?” I ask, and he scoffs at me.
“So? Cat has a right to know what his officers are getting up to, especially in regard to his own daughter. Beast knew the risks when he touched you; he’ll have to face the consequences.”
“What is wrong with you?!” I snap, standing up from the chair, my hands curled into tight fists. “Can you ever think outside the rule book? Try to judge a situation with a filter of gray instead of straight black and white?”
“The world is black and white, Gidge,” he says, eyes narrowing but lids heavy and soft, like he’s in a whole other world. He’s barely listening to me right now. “You pick a side, and you follow the rules. That’s it. There’s nothing else to it.”
“What a sad, pathetic life you must lead,” I grind out, my pulse throbbing. I’ve got the beginnings of a headache going on, but I’m too wired to sleep. Not yet. “Well, if you’re going to report Beast then you better add Sin and Grainger to that list.” I feel a bit like I’m snitching, and I don’t like it. Then again, Crown’s essentially threatening to snitch, isn’t he? All I’m doing is protecting my own interests, mine and Beast’s and Sin’s. Fuck Grainger. I couldn’t care less what happens to him.
“What, exactly, would I be telling Cat about Sin and Grainger?” he asks, his voice strangely calm, controlled, but tinged with anger.
“I fucked them, too,” I say, and the words surprise the shit out of me.
I haven’t processed it yet, that it actually happened, that I’m not a virgin anymore, that for the rest of my life I’ll probably remember this moment.
Crown just stares at me, and I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m full of shit.
“Grainger was first. Sin was second. If you don’t believe me, go ahead and ask them. They might lie, but then you’re all really good at that, aren’t you?” Crown frowns, caught between scolding me and exploding with self-righteous rage.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asks, voice quiet and steely.
“It means that I want to know more about Kian. I want to know why those men came here, and I want to know why we were all alone that day.”
I’ve never seen Crown snap to attention quite like that.
“You know what happened,” he says, almost softly, but then he stands up and swings a leg over his bike and I know I’m in trouble. “Kian was the Dom’s son; you know that. He raped your sister. What happened to him was righteous retribution.”
“Was it?” I ask, my eyes getting salty and sore from unshed tears. But I won’t let them fall. I refuse. “Because the way those men spoke, it just felt like cold-blooded murder. And either way, was it worth it? Was getting that revenge worth Queenie’s life? Her baby’s? How about Posey’s?” Crown doesn’t say anything; he lets me vent, standing there in the dark and staring down at me.
