Page 118 of Knight
I shook my head. “Can’t.”
He looked disappointed, his blue eyes as warm as they’d always been. “You know what happens if you don’t. Was it really so bad to have a family who had your back?”
“But they didn’t, did they? I went down for Puck’s bullshit.”
“Standing right here,” Puck said dryly.
“The club didn’t get me clear of the charges, and I did my time, but now here you all are, knocking at my door. I just want to live in peace. I’m done with the violence.”
“That’s a shame,” Hector said behind me. “Because I have a proposition for you, Knight. But if you’ve gone soft, we might be wasting our time.”
I turned, jaw clenched. Hector looked much the same as when I’d last seen him, but he’d buzzed off his dark hair, only a faint shadow fuzzed over his bald head. It made him look even more intimidating than he had when I was twenty-two.
“Knight’s not soft,” Puck said. “He gave me and the boys a hard time of it.”
Hector smirked. “It does seem his fists still work.” He cast a look toward Puck. “Might have been an improvement in Jelly’s case.”
Puck snickered. “Can’t argue there.”
“Fuck you, guys!” a big dude called, who I assumed was Jelly. I didn’t get a good look at him the night shit went down. But I was pretty sure he was the freight train who’d tackled me to the pavement.
The guys listening in all laughed, and Jelly cursed them some more.
Hector jerked his head toward the back of the club. “Come on, let’s talk where it’s quieter.”
He led me into the back room where a large rough-hewn table sat with six chairs around it. This was where members voted on important decisions.
“Been a while since you’ve been to Church, eh?” Hector said with a chuckle.
Church was what the mandatory meetings were called. But Hector had enough leverage on most of the guys to ensure all votes went his way.
This was where they’d decided whether to kill me to protect their secrets. They’d let me live once, so maybe they’d do it again.
Puck closed the door, closing out the noise of the clubwhile Hector took a seat in his throne—an oversize chair at the head of the table.
I remained standing and crossed my arms. “So, what did you want to say to me?”
“So defensive.” Hector chuckled and glanced at Puck. “Did you piss in his Cheerios?”
“I think I did that the other night. With Jelly and Landry.”
“Ah. Yes. That.” Hector nodded. “Unfortunate. You know how it goes, Knight. We invited you back. You turned down our generous offer, despite going AWOL for months.”
“I did seven years in prison,” I said. “I paid my dues. I want to live my life how I choose now.”
“You didn’t go to prison for this club. Hell, I don’t know what the fuck you were doing out there, playing cowboys and robbers with the fucking Reapers. But it wasn’t on my orders.”
I glared over at Puck, who shrugged. Obviously, he’d never chosen to fill in Hector.
“I was trying to rescue this shithead.” I waved toward Puck. “He’s the one who should have gone down for it.”
“I wasn’t stupid enough to let them catch me,” Puck shot back.
Hector waved a hand. “Okay, let’s not get sidetracked. You went down, and you did your time without ratting on the club. I respect that.”
“And you show it by having me jumped.”
He took out a pack of cigarettes and fished a lighter from his pocket. “Want a smoke?”
