Hellbent (Four Horsemen MC Book 5) (34 page)

Pretty Boy touched his fingers to the hickey Shep had left on the base of his neck. "I, uh …"

"Looks like an impression of Shep's teeth." Her eyebrows rose.

Shep leaned closer to Pretty Boy, popping the lid off one of the cups and stirring in cream and sugar. Shep handed him the coffee he'd just fixed, then popped the little triangle on a cup of black for himself.

Voo cleared his throat, eyes flickering between them in the mirror. "You said on the phone there was something you wanted to tell me, brother?"

Lexi snickered. Three sets of eyes landed on her and she shrugged. "Sorry, I can't do subtle before coffee."

Shep sighed, scratching his head. "Look Voo, you know what's been going on. Noah—Pretty Boy—and I have been going in circles around this thing forever, just fucking acting like it didn't exist and shoving each other out of the way of motherfucking landmines of one kind of another. I finally figured we should, you know, stop. Walking around landmines and whatever."

Voo raised an eyebrow.

"That sentence got away from me," he admitted.

"What stopped the circling?" Voo asked, hand brushing a funky metal talisman hanging from his rearview.

"Motherfucking Beauregard." Pretty Boy took another healthy sip of coffee.

Voo's eyes widened. "And you're gonna bring all this up at church today?"  At Shep's nod, he added, "You better hope you're a lot more fucking articulate then, brother."

"Amen."

Shep walked into the back boardroom at Perdition, wondering if it would be for the last time. He had savored every step through the bar, the rough but friendly greetings of his brothers, the smell of freshly poured beer and motor grease clinging to the bar. He took in the table, the emblem carved through it.

He remembered the first day in this room after his Revelation. The look on Cap's face as he'd taken his seat. The security of sitting next to Duke, sworn family. The deep-seated satisfaction of knowing the tattoo healing on Noah's wrist would protect him even when Shep couldn't.

The double doors thwapped softly behind him and Duke stepped into the room. "Good to see you, brother."

Shep grinned. "So I take it Crash and Dash's extraction was successful? They got you out."

Duke laughed. "I
got
out anyways. But they were on it with the getaway transport, I'll give them that."

"What the fuck happened? That fucker told us he knew you were in the building."

"Knew I was in the building and able to contain me within one room in the building or two entirely different things." He smirked. "But you should wait for the full details. Crash has pictures. Words alone don't really do it justice."

"Duly noted." Shep glanced up as the other brothers started filing in. Full house today.

"What about you? When y'all went dark last night, I almost started to worry." Duke examined Shep's face.

He swallowed. "That's the story I'm fixing to tell actually."

Duke's eyes narrowed. "How much clean-up are we talking?"

Shep laughed dryly as he turned to the Pale Rider. "Hopefully nothing you'll be needed for."

Axel banged the gavel and the room quieted, with more than a few winces. While a select crew had been on club business last night, the rest of the brothers had been at the Crossroad Crows concert.

The new members stood in the back of the room leaning against the wall. Ace, Wilde, Jagger, Voo, Cowboy, and Duke sat to Shep's left. Ryker, Ransom, Steele, Justice and Coyote sat across the table.

The smell rolling off the Prez seemed to indicate Axel had used a bottle of whiskey to forget whatever had gone south last night. "As most of you already know, last night's mission failed. We got everybody back, unharmed. But Beauregard still has the gun."

Jagger sighed. "What the fuck happened?"

Shep took a deep breath. Point of no return. "Let me shed a little light on that, fellas. I got something to tell you guys. And you're not going to like it."

He stood and slid his cut off. His fingers dug into the leather and he took a deep breath, before folding it carefully and setting it, patches up, in front of Axel.

The level of unease in the room ratcheted up. They had the right to be a little gun-shy after Captain’s confession. Shep had a feeling today wasn't going to do a lot to restore confidence in the group, but they'd come through it. He sought out Voo's gaze. If Axel was smart, he'd grab Voo and they'd carry everyone until they got shit together. He had faith in them.

"When Beauregard had me and Pretty Boy …" Shep's mouth dried up and he met Pretty Boy's gaze across the room. "He tried to blackmail me. Told me some shit about how he couldn't kill me because I was some sort of lynchpin. Wanted me to be his inside man in the MC."

"And you promptly told him to go fuck himself?" Duke asked, eyes narrowing.

"More or less." Shep took a breath. "So I might as well confess now. Let y'all hear it from me instead of that fucking asshole."

Axel sat, setting the gavel aside. He leaned back in his chair, arms folded. "What the fuck could he have on you?"

There was a flicker of fear hiding in his cousin's eyes. Like he didn't know how much more he could fuckin’ take. Shep swallowed, hating to add to the new Prez's burdens.  "Just keep in mind, I'm trying to do the right thing here by telling you guys what's up."

"Go on, brother," Voo encouraged softly.

Time to get this over with. Shep knew exactly who this was going to hurt the most. Duke who didn’t trust men in the first place, who was homophobic as fuck and from what Shep had seen of abused kids as a youth pastor, he had an inkling why. A man with hatred that strong had been through the kind of thing you just didn’t let go.

He faced Duke, looking him dead in the eyes. "I'm in love with Pretty Boy. Probably always have been. And the night before Revelation, Beauregard got pictures of us fucking."

He could've heard the fucking shadow of a pin drop in the room.

"What?" Steele frowned. "Who were you two fucking in the pictures?"

Cowboy elbowed him. "Dude. They were fucking each other."

"No shit?" Steele's eyes widened. Voo covered a snicker with his hand and Jagger smacked a hand on his knee, biting his lip as he looked away. "Butt-fucking?"

Coyote snorted, his laughter choking in his throat.

"Anyway," Shep continued hoarsely, wetting his lips. "I can't let Beauregard use me against the MC. So I'm going to save you a vote. I’m done. You want the tatts off, I'll do that."

Duke's jaw locked, his eyes hard and glittering. Shep swallowed. "This is going to sound stupid, but I really didn't want to lie to you.  And I'm sorry you're finding out because of Beauregard and not because I was fucking man enough to admit the truth."

Shep looked over at Pretty Boy. He hadn't moved, still leaning against the wall. His former prospect brothers a row of solidarity beside him. Finally he faced Axel.

"You kept this from me?" Axel asked, soft and dangerous.

His jaw locked. "From everyone. Or at least I tried to."

"Yeah? There's a couple of people in this room who don't look so surprised." Axel's gaze raked over Voo, Yo and Jag, then back to the new members.

"Some of us are just a little quicker on the uptake, brother," Voo said pointedly.

"You owed me," Axel gritted out.

"How do you figure that?" Shep's spine straightened. The truth was out, and he'd take the consequences. But he wasn't about to roll over and bitch out.

"We're
family.
You could have fucking told me." Axel shook his head.

"So your cousin's gay. Get the fuck over it," Jag piped up. "Seriously, are we fucking going to make a thing out of this? We just went over this with Cap—Shep did exactly what we said a member should—he told us before it compromised the MC. Good enough for me."

"In my day, when a dude was gay, he was polite enough to keep it under his hat," Goat commented. "I guess there's not way to put that fucking genie back in the bottle, huh?"

Steele's eyes were still glued to Shep. "You ever hot for me? You can tell the truth."

"Shut up, Steele," Justice spoke up, his voice slicing through the din. "Any way you want to look at this, Shep's been taken out of play. This is a distraction from what we're supposed to be fucking focusing on, which is putting Beauregard in the motherfucking ground. Shep wants to step down, I say we let him and get back to business."

"We are not losing Shep over something this motherfucking stupid!" Yo's face was flushed, eyes spitting fire.

"He lied to us. Hid an inappropriate relationship with a prospect under his charge." Duke's voice carried across the table. "Gave Beauregard leverage on him that could have put us in a tight spot."

"Yeah, exactly who the fuck are you to cast stones?" Yo narrowed his eyes at Duke. "You want to talk about poor sexual decisions? Because I'm pretty sure we had to bury your last mistake in the desert. Matter of fact, I think Cap and Shep cleaned up that mess for you."

"Why don't you come over here and say that to my face, you nerdy little cocksucker?" Duke growled.

"Sorry, wasn't aware that being a raging homophobe qualified as moral high ground." Coyote rolled his eyes and flipped Duke off.

Duke stood. "Shut your fucking mouth."

"Or what? You'll turn into a racist, too?" Yo glared.

"Let's take it easy, here." Voo stood, holding his hands out as if to steady them all. When the glaring and chest puffing died down, he continued.  "Shep, you don't have to leave the club."

Yes, he did. If he let them kick him out, they'd take away Pretty Boy's protection.

Nothing doing.

"That's not your fucking decision to make," Duke growled. "We vote it out. Just because the two of you are butt-buddies, doesn't mean you get to tell the rest of the club what's fucking what."

“We’re not kicking him out because he’s gay,” Yo protested. “Tell me we’re not those fuckin’ people.”

“No, we’re kicking him out because he lied. The ‘no gay shit’ rule aside,” Duke paused and glared at Shep, “you fucking lied to
me.”

Shep thought about the day Duke had pulled him up out of that grave and slipped the cut on his shoulders. Thought about the sense of satisfaction and belonging he'd felt. He met Duke's cold eyes. Maybe that brotherhood was done now.

The room descended into shouting and arguing, brothers on their feet, getting in each other's face—all over who Shep wanted to take to bed. This was exactly what he didn't want. And more to the point?

This was starting to fucking piss him off. He'd carried so much guilt around for so long – how his desire for another man had led him to kill. How he had been such a fucking loser that his own father couldn't love him. He had thought himself a monstrosity, an abomination. And this family—the MC—had carried him through it.

Now they were turning on him. Just like Beauregard had said they would.

No matter that he had told himself the same thing, he just couldn’t abide admitting Beauregard was right. He’d had enough.

"Shut the fuck up!" he shouted.

The room fell mostly quiet, muttered curses and under te breath threats still floating around. He locked eyes on Pretty Boy, standing straight. Crash, Fetch and Dash looked ready to murder the next the brother that looked at him funny.  

Shep looked around the room. "This is all horseshit. At the end of the day, I don't give a good goddamn who's in your bed. And I don't give a shit if you don't like who the fuck I want in mine. It's none of your motherfucking business anymore."

"Shep …" Axel said softly.

"What? You and Ryker are screwed if you don't like this. We're still fucking family, so you can take that up at Sunday dinner." Shep turned back to the table and looked at Duke. "I know you feel betrayed. I hope you get over it one fucking day and realize I did the right thing here."

"I know you did, brother," Jag spoke up, Voo nodding emphatically beside him.

"That's a matter of fucking opinion. I trusted you." Duke stared at Shep. "Just so you know, I'm not good with this. I'm not good with you." He turned and glared at Pretty Boy. "Or you."

The throbbing bite taken out of his heart by Duke filled with anger. "Too fucking bad, asshole. The tattoo on his wrist says you protect him for fucking life whether you want to or not, whether you let him in the stay in the club." Then he looked at Axel. "And I expect you have to be man enough to make them honor that. Don't disappoint me."

He stood, put his hand on his cut, folded in front of Axel one last time. "Vote if you want. I'm fucking done."

And he walked out.

He was shaking by the time he climbed on his bike, his shoulders cold without the warmth of his cut. But the sun was warm on his face.

Maybe that would be protection enough.

Chapter Thirty-Three

 Riding without your cut is like riding without your club. Don’t.

~Four Horsemen Prospect Handbook

* * *

Axel glared around the table. "For the fucking love of leather, if Beauregard or anyone else has something on you—now's the time to fucking speak up, since the last time I asked didn't seem to do the trick."

A round of grumbling and cursing rounded the table, but no one else seemed to have anything to confess.

Pretty Boy had been trying to get a damn word in edgewise since Shep's grand exit. He had plenty to say on the manner, but apparently nobody gave two shits about his opinion. Especially Duke, who despite his steely stare still looked a little like Pretty Boy had kicked his favorite puppy.

Without Shep to rein them in, fights broke out every twenty minutes. It took Axel and Voo nearly twice as long as to get everybody sat back down. At one point, Goat actually point blank asked, "If we're going to bitch and moan this fucking much, why don't we just call a Pale Rider vote? Jesus H. Christ!"

Another fight broke out.

And I’m fucking done.

Finally, he about-faced and walked out the door, the look he tossed at Crash, Dash and Fetch over his shoulder meant to ensure they stayed and got their votes counted. He stepped into the parking lot of Perdition. Shep's bike was gone, the road empty for the first time since the rally had rolled into town.