Page 31 of Owned By Knuckles
"My president. Pope."
That wakes her up. Her eyes go wide and she sits up, clutching the sheet to her chest. "Already?"
"Yeah, well, Pope doesn't always follow his own schedule." I grab my jeans from the floor and pull them on. "Stay here. Let me handle this."
"Ryan—"
"Trust me. Just stay here."
I cross to the door and open it just enough to see out.
Pope is standing in the hallway looking exactly like what he is: a man who's been running an MC for years and doesn't have patience for bullshit. He's built like he could still throw down despite the gray in his beard, wearing his cut over a black t-shirt.
Behind him is Ghost, looking neutral as always, and Havoc, who's giving me a look that clearly says *you're fucked*.
"Morning," I say.
"Morning." Pope's expression doesn't change. "You gonna let me in, or we having this conversation in the hallway?"
I step back and open the door wider. All three of them walk in, and I see the exact moment Pope notices Savannah in my bed.
To her credit, she doesn't shrink back. Just sits there with the sheet pulled up, meeting Pope's gaze directly despite the fact that she's clearly naked under there and this is the worst possible first impression.
"Pope," I say. "This is Savannah. Savannah, this is Pope, our club president. You met Ghost last night, and that's Havoc."
"Hello," she says, voice trembling.
Pope doesn't respond. Just looks from her to me and back again.
"Ghost said you were bringing a runaway bride under club protection," Pope finally says. "Didn't mention you'd be fucking her."
"Pope—"
"How long she been here? Ten hours? Twelve?"
"About that."
"And you've already got her in your bed." It's not a question. "That was fast work, brother."
"It's not like that," Savannah says, her voice stronger now. "He didn't… It wasn't—"
"Wasn't what? Wasn't his idea?" Pope crosses his arms. "Let me guess. You came to his room. Asked him to stay with you. One thing led to another."
She flushes but doesn't look away. "Yes."
"And you think that makes it better?" Pope looks at me now. "You know the fucking rules, Knuckles. You don't shit where you eat. You don't fuck women under club protection. Not until the situation is resolved and they're not vulnerable."
"I know the rules."
"Do you? Because from where I'm standing, you broke them about five minutes after bringing her upstairs."
He's not wrong. And I don't have a good excuse except that I wanted her and she wanted me and everything else stopped mattering.
"You're right," I say. "I fucked up. But it's done now. And she's still under club protection whether I'm involved with her or not."
"That's not how this works and you know it." Pope turns to Ghost. "When did he call you last night?"
"Around midnight. Said he had a woman who needed clothes and a place to stay. Didn't mention why."
