Page 21 of Claimed By a King

“The club is yours now, Gray.” He rasps before he sucks his lips in like he’s trying not to fucking tear up.

“What? What are you talking about? You’re okay. You survived. I’ll keep running it for you until you get better, man.”

“I won’t get better!” he roars, his head rising off the pillow as he glares at me with rage. “I’m a fucking cripple! I can’t even move my fucking toes, let alone ride a bike! I’m fucking done!”

As his harsh words sink in, air gets trapped in my lungs, and I fight to push my words out.

“It might not be permanent. The doc said it’s still too early to tell.” I counter, but he chuckles harshly.

“I can fucking tell, Gray.” He flops his head back on the pillow. “I can fucking tell I’ll never walk again. I’ll never be able to run away from my enemies. I’ll never be able to dance with my wife.” He chokes up then, and I fail at keeping the hot tears in my fucking eyes. “What if I can never fuck her again? I can eventually come to terms with all the rest, but that…” He shakes his head as tears stream from his eyes. “That I can’t live with.”

“Don’t fucking say that,” I hiss, lurching forward and fisting the neck of his hospital gown. “It’s early days, man. You have a long road ahead, but you’re a fucking fighter. You’ve got this. You and Cara can get through fucking anything.”

A choked sob leaps from his dry lips, and he weakly fists my cut. “Don’t let me walk off that cliff, brother. Don’t let me turn into a bitter self-loathing ass.”

I shake my head. “Never.” I promise, pressing my forehead to his. “That’s not how your story ends. You’re gonna be an old grumpy fucker sitting on a porch next to your old grumpy wife pointing guns at the fucking mailman and passersby just for fucking kicks. And when you take your last fucking breath, it’ll be because you’re old as fuck, your skin sagging with wrinkles, and your dick hard from the blue pills that help you fuck your wife until your fucking heart stops. You hear me!?”

A choked laugh rips from Rocco’s lips as his lips turn up. “Yeah, I fucking hear you.”

I lift my head from his, releasing his gown before I thump my hand over my fucking aching heart.

“With honor we ride, side by side.” I straighten, keeping my voice strong as I chant the words that bind us for lifeas club brothers. “Brothers by choice. Brothers by heart. Brothers with pride.” I watch as he tears up again, even as he balls his own fist and thumps it lazily over his own heart. “In this life and the next, together we fly.” He nods, like he’s letting my words pick him up from the dark hole he’s fallen into before he chants the last sentence with me.

“We are the Cruz Kings, ride or die.”

He nods frantically at me like he’s making me a silent promise to stay strong, and it’s then that I see movement from the corner of my eye.

Cara stands in the doorway, tears wetting her cheeks as she takes us in, her own hand pressed to her chest as if she felt every single word in the chant.

“Get your sexy ass over here,” Rocco rasps, and Cara obeys, hurrying forward to her man.

I step back to give them some space as they hug for a few minutes, and when they pull apart, both of them turn their gazes to me.

“What?” I ask. Should I have left already?

“I meant what I said before, Gray. The club is yours now. Even if I do recover someday, it’ll be a long road, and the club needs a President. That’s you, brother.”

Rocco’s words really hit fucking home. I know it’s always how it was meant to be, but I thought he’d be older. I’d be older. I never imagined doing this without him.

“I… What if I fail?” I ask, revealing my fear to two of the three people I trust most in this world, and my heart fucking aches from not having the third here with me.

Zoe.

Releasing her hold on Rocco’s hand, Cara rounds the bed to come to me and straightens my cut, much like I imagine a woman would straighten a man’s suit jacket and I notice how she’s careful not to touch me.

“You’ve always been a cocky bastard, Gray. Use it. Fake it until you make it and stop letting the fear rule you. You’re one of the strongest people I know, and if we didn’t think you had it in you to reign, then we wouldn’t insist on you doingit.” She taps her hand over my cheek and gives me a wink. “Don’t forget. Mama knows best.”

I chuckle at her words as she returns to Rocco’s bedside, knowing she’s the closest thing to a mother I’ve had in years.

“So how do we do this?” I ask, unsure how the baton gets passed since it’s the first time our club has changed leadership.

“We’ll have a ceremony,” Cara explains, and I realize she’s already memorized the rules for this part. “Since Rocco is standing down, he will present you with the President’s patch, and you will present him with a Founder patch.”

A smile tugs at my lips as I glance at Rocco. He’ll still be part of it then. Not as involved but acknowledging him as Founder means he’ll still be there if I need an ear. He’ll probably come to some of our events like the Fourth of July. It doesn’t mean goodbye. It just means he’s retiring.

I blow out a relieved fucking breath. I can run this club. I know I can. But I can’t handle the thought of severing all ties with Rocco, and this means I won’t have to.

“It’ll be my honor to present you with that patch,” I tell him, and he grins.

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