Page 8 of Royal Sons MC

“Tymber, you can’t always be their friend when you’re the parent. Yes, I could’ve talked him through my reasoning instead of grounding him, but damn, the boy knows how to push my buttons,” she growled.

Oh, he knew all about pushing a parent’s button, especially a mother’s. Before they’d lost their mom to breast cancer, he’d always pushed buttons or envelopes, whatever he could, to get his way. Hell, at thirty-two, there wasn’t much he hadn’t done that he wanted. “You don’t owe the kid a reason. A little respect goes a long way. Remember, he’s a straight-A student and has goals. Trust him enough to talk with him before you startthe yelling. And while I’m doling out advice, may I suggest you not do it via text?” He lifted his chin toward the pink phone on the table.

Carly blinked, her eyes swimming with tears. “It’s hard, Tymber. I only want what’s best for him, but he acts like I’m the worst mother in the world when I don’t let him have his way. Throwing up his grades doesn’t make it okay for him to go to a party with no chaperones.”

Tymber agreed with Carly. He hoped his nephew truly did acknowledge his mom only did things for his wellbeing. “I gotta go.” He stood up, hugging Carly as she, too, stood.

“Thanks for coming up and putting out my fires,” she joked.

Seated on his Harley as he headed toward his home, he thought of Ivy and her reasoning for being outside a meeting but not going in. All through their little coffee...he couldn’t call it a date, but it was something, something he wanted to explore further.

IVY RECOGNIZED DARIAN’Scar outside the flat she shared with him and Luke. Her heart twisted in her chest, making it hard to breathe. “Get your shit together, girl,” she muttered then winced. Whenever she’d been nervous or upset, she’d always talked to herself, except when Luke had been there, which, looking back, had been almost her entire life. Now, he was gone, and there was this huge hole where he had been in her life. She felt as though she were swimming against the current. The saying ‘Life isn’t finding shelter in the storm but about learning to dance in the rain’flittered into her mind.

“That’s what I’m going to get inked on me.” It felt as though all she’d done was let the rain that was her shitshow of life wash her away instead of standing tall with an umbrella over her head, telling the storm to do its worst.

She pushed the door to her Bronco open, making her way to the entrance where her life seemed to be left hanging. Inside, she climbed the steps to the upstairs apartment. Her boots sounded loud in the empty hallway, but she’d never been one to walk quietly, yet she wondered if that annoyed others. Seeing the door left ajar sent fear slithering down her spine. With her phone in one hand, she pushed the door open with her foot. “Darian, you home?”

A noise from the living room had her moving as silently as she could. “I’ve already called 911,” she lied.

Darian lifted his head from the leather sofa, his hand holding his nose that looked like he’d been in a fight. “You’re such a bad liar, Ivy.” His words were muffled by the towel he held to his face.

Bruising around both eyes had already appeared. “What the fuck happened here?” The apartment seemed to have been trashed, like those after a weekend bender. Not that she or Luke had ever had one of them at the apartment, but she’d been to enough parties the Royal MC had thrown. Only the damage looked more deliberate than what would happen during a party.

“Some of the Royal Sons showed up and didn’t like to see me here. Shit, this is the last thing I wanted or needed in my life. Luke—” He choked up.

Moving to sit next to him, she paused, retraced her steps, and shut the door, swearing when her eyes landed on the busted door. “Those fuckers broke the door down?” she asked, sitting down next to him.

“I came home to find them already here. I guess they wanted inside enough that even a locked door wouldn’t keep them out.” He pulled the towel away from his nose.

“Good lord, you need to get that fixed. It looks broken.” Her hand reached for the bloody towel.

“Aren’t you scared I’ll infect you with my gay blood?” Darian let her take the towel away. “I now understand why Luke didn’t want to come out to the club. Fuck, if I could’ve, I’d have walked away from him years ago. I loved him, Ivy. Why wasn’t I enough to keep him from...” His words that were left unsaid broke her heart.

“Darian, listen to me. You weren’t the problem, and neither was Luke. The MC may accept many things, but he didn’t think they’d allow him to come around, even though his brothers are the Prez and his VP. Hell, the entire MC was created by his family like a hundred years ago. Luke was scared to lose his brothers, whether they be of blood or cut.” That was one of the reasons she’d agreed to pretend to be his girlfriend all these years. Luke thought he’d only be accepted if he had an ole’ lady. He didn’t want to be a full-fledged member, unlike his brothers, who were not only members but also the president and vice president. Yet he didn’t want to be cut off from them either. Life had really fucked with him, but she’d loved him.

“I’m moving back home,” Darian whispered.

She jerked back, taking in her best friend’s boyfriend’s appearance. He was a blond Adonis with blue eyes and a muscled physique. “You mean, home to Iowa?”

Darian nodded, tossing the bloody rag onto the leather ottoman that served as the coffee table. “Are you being rash? I mean, yeah, this place is a mess, but I’m sure they won’t be back.” If the MC wanted to make a statement, beating the shit out of Darian was it. She hoped. Damn, she hated the uncertainty her life had become.

“I came out here for Luke. I like my job at Pump, but it’s not what I planned for my life. Look at me. I’m a twenty-five-year-old gay man living with my deceased boyfriend’s supposed girlfriend in the place he took his life. Every day, I wake up wishing it were a bad dream. It’s a fucking nightmare that I pray I can wake from, only to find it’s my new reality. I can’t stay here and keep my sanity,” he cried.

Ivy pulled him to her, wishing there was something she could do. Too many times, she woke with the horror of knowing her best friend had taken his life. “God, this sucks,” she choked out.

“I was actually packing before I went out to grab something to eat. It was when I came back that I found the two men in leather vests tearing shit up. Can you believe I yelled at them? How stupid was that?” His blue eyes implored her to understand.

“Did they ruin any of your stuff?” she asked, not wanting to get into what had happened. Luke’s death was too fresh of a wound for them to talk about. However, she thought that by having Darian there, at least one person would be able to understand what she was going through. An image of Tymber appeared. His openness made her wish she had met him before.

“Nah, nothing that can’t be replaced. Ivy, it’s not safe for you here. I think I was a warning to you.” He reached for her, taking her by the shoulders and giving her a firm shake. “Are you listening to me?”

“I know the MC, unlike you, Darian. I grew up with them and had my first beer with them. Trust me, they’re just blowing off steam. It’s been over a month since Luke—since that night. When do you leave?” she asked, changing the subject. Her internal alarm for danger was blaring. If the MC decided she was to blame, her life could be on the line.

“I already booked my flight. There’s nothing here except the clothes I want. I’ll help you clean up.” He stood abruptly, picked up the bloody towel, and swore. “I get why he didn’t want to tell the entire club, but why not his brothers? For that matter, how the fuck didn’t they know he preferred dudes to women?”

Ivy knew how, and that was why she felt so much guilt. Maybe if she’d encouraged him to be honest with King and Duke, they might’ve accepted his sexuality. She pictured King Royal, the president of the Royal Sons MC. Her hand flew to her chest as an image of his angry face appeared. “I should’ve made him tell King.”

“That would’ve been fun to see, Ivy Girl. Listen, why don’t you come with me? My family would welcome you with open arms, and you could start over.” He didn’t look up as he spoke, his intent to clean up the mess left by the assholes making him grunt in pain from their beating.

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