Page 16 of Royally Twisted

Chapter Six

Tymber didn’t wantto hurt a member of the Royal Sons, but he’d be damned if he allowed one hair on Ivy’s head to be hurt. It was a lesson in control he was sure he didn’t have, to allow Rooster with his big ass knife to hold him. His control snapping as the man decided to wrap his big beefy arms around his neck. Tymber was many things, but a fool or pussy wasn’t one of them. If the Royals wanted a fight, he’d give ‘em one.

“If one more fucker tries to sneak up on me, I promise I won’t play nice,” he warned.

King’s warning completely ignored as he twisted at the last second, missing the punch aimed at his head. He grabbed the bastard who tried to sucker punch him by the arm, flipping him over his back so that he landed in front of him, a look of shock on the younger man’s face. The knife he’d taken from Rooster was big, but he avoided cutting the fucker, barely.

“Settle,” King uttered the one word.

Tymber stepped around the sprawled man, walked up to the one named Rooster, keeping his focus on what was going on around him. He flipped the knife around, handing the blade back by the handle. “I meant no disrespect, but having shit like that shoved in my face, brings back memories I’d rather not have.”

“Ivy, you telling me my brother never stuck his dick in you?”

He wanted to punch King in the mouth for the way his question made Ivy jump. “What’s it matter now? I’m sorry your brother died, but what the hell does Ivy have to do with it?”

“My brother killed himself because he caught her with another son-of-a-bitch. Ain’t that right, Ivy?” Duke, the quieter of the brothers spoke up. Menace and anger filling his features, twisting what was probably a good looking guy, into something ugly.

Ivy was shaking her head, her hands still trapped under King’s. “No, that’s not what happened. Your brother...Luke thought you knew about him and Darian. He said you caught them together?”

King jerked back like he’d been struck. “Are you telling me it was my fault he offed himself?”

This time it was Tymber who jerked, looking toward Ivy for confirmation. He’d first seen her outside the suicide meeting and had thought it was her who was contemplating killing herself. He ran a tired hand down his face, sighing loudly. “King, its nobody’s fault for Luke’s choice to end his life. Fuck, I should know. If I had gone through with my dark thoughts, I could’ve done the same thing. I had to pull myself out of depression and decide that living was better than being six feet under. I did that. I would’ve been the one to end my life, same as your brother.”

Ivy’s whispered,nowas the only word uttered for minutes.

“Everyone out except Duke,” King ordered.

Traeger, the Sergeant of Arms grunted. “Do you think that’s wise?” he questioned.

“I ain’t scared she’s gonna slit my throat or afraid of that one leaping across this table. I got this.” King stood up as he spoke, each word coming out from between gritted teeth.

Tymber stayed where he was, listening as Ivy told them about her and Luke’s bargain. From where he stood, she didn’t gain shit, except a bullseye on her chest.

“You look ready to spit nails. Fuck, my brother was gay and was scared to tell me.” King shook his head, his hands scrubbed down his face.

“He was scared you’d kick him out of the club. I tried to tell him you wouldn’t, but he wasn’t prepared to listen. I don’t know what you saw with him and Darian, but it was enough to make him think you knew. Combine that with his depression, he felt he had no option. I...I have a letter from him to you. Don’t do that.” She stopped speaking as King ground his teeth loud enough he could hear it as well.

“Where’s this fucking note, Ivy?” King squeezed her hand, pain reflecting on her face.

“Get your fucking hands off of her or so help me God, I won’t be responsible for my actions.” Tymber took the few steps separating him from Ivy. “Baby, do you have the letter?” he asked in a soft tone.

Ivy nodded, looking toward the floor where her bag had fallen. King walked around the table, bent, and then dumped her purse’s contents onto the smooth surface in front of her. Her hands fumbled for the letter, sifting through a few pieces of mail she’d had in it before pulling it out. “It’s right here. I didn’t read it, though.”

The charged atmosphere heightened as King read the note with Duke looking over his shoulder, both men freezing for a few minutes, their shoulders lifted and fell. King balled the paper up. “Motherfucker,” he roared, his fist slamming into the table, making the bottles on top fall off, shattering glass echoed around them.

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