Journey (Soulless Kings MC: Marble Falls, TX #2)

20. Wren

CHAPTER 20

WREN

No one’s ever stuck around.

“What’re you waiting for?”

My gaze is fixed on Journey’s Harley, and as tempted as I am to hop on, I’m also a little frightened. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.

“You just got done telling me why you didn’t want to be out in public because of the danger, and now you expect me to just ride off into the sunset with you?” I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

“We’re not gonna be in public,” he assures me. “And I promise I’ll stick to the speed limit.”

His devilish grin does nothing to alleviate my concerns, but it does send a shiver of need up my spine.

“If I die, I’m gonna haunt your ass,” I grumble as I let him help me onto the bike.

“You’ll be the sexiest ghost I’ve ever seen.”

“Not helping.”

He laughs and throws his leg over the seat to settle in front of me. “Wrap your arms around my waist and hold on tight.”

And I do, although I’m not sure digging my nails into his abdomen is what he had in mind as far as holding on tight.

“Here we are,” he says when he parks next to a large building fifteen minutes later. “Home sweet home.”

“You live here?”

“It’s the clubhouse, so yeah.”

Unease twists my stomach into knots. “Why would you bring me here?” I swivel my head and take in all the other motorcycles and vehicles parked in the gravel lot and yard. “This is too much, Journey. I can’t do this. What if I…”

“What if you what?” he asks gently.

I sigh dramatically. “What if I switch?”

“Do you trust me?”

“No. I don’t fucking know you!”

“Aw, c’mon, Wren,” he cajoles. “Have I let you down yet?”

“Well… no. But that doesn’t mean you won’t.”

He reaches for my hand and flattens it over his chest. “I will not let anyone do or say anything to hurt you, okay? You have my word.”

And there’s the rub. Words are just words. Actions are a true measure of the man.

And you’ll never know if Journey is a man of his word if you don’t give him a chance to show you with his actions.

“Stupid voices,” I mutter.

“Wait, you can hear them?” he asks, his eyes wide.

Taking a step back, I wave my hand dismissively. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“What’s it like?”

The curiosity in his tone strikes a chord, and my heart melts a little. “I don’t know. It’s normal to me, I guess. If I had to compare it to something, I’d say it’s like I have a dozen different podcasts playing in my head, trying to compete for my attention. Rarely is it all of them at once, but you get the idea.”

“That’s gotta be hard.”

I snort. “Ya think?”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t you get it? I struggle enough, but if I’m thrust into the middle of a crowd, all hell could break loose.”

“You go to Ballinger’s,” he points out. “They get crowded.”

“But Ballinger’s is familiar. It took me a while to be able to go without freaking out or switching. And even though it’s a safe place for me, the alters still take over sometimes.”

“The clubhouse can become a safe place, too.”

It would be nice to expand my zone of comfort. What Journey’s offering could give me a life I thought I was incapable of having, one I never thought I deserved.

But at what cost?

Deciding to throw caution to the wind, at least for tonight, I nod. “Fine. I’ll go in. But you better not leave my side.”

Journey throws an arm around my shoulder, and warmth spreads throughout my body.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Journey leads me inside, and I’m immediately hit with what feels like a solid wall of music and smoke. I must tense under his arm because he leads me to the opposite wall where there’s a jukebox, and he yanks the cord from the wall.

Silence fills the room as all eyes turn to us. I squirm under the scrutiny, but Journey just tightens his hold, offering whatever comfort he can.

“What the fuck, J?” a man shouts angrily.

“Listen up,” Journey says loudly. “I’ve got an announcement to make.”

Aw, hell.

“What? Did that chick finally let you sink your cock into her again?” another man says as he walks toward us.

Journey moves so fast, and the next thing I know, the guy is flat on the floor with blood coming from his nose.

“Wren isn’t just some chick,” Journey snarls. “And the next time you choose to speak about her like that, you’ll be out in the cold. Got it, Blain?”

“Yeah, yeah. Got it.”

“Anyone else have an opinion they wanna share?” Journey asks. No one says a word. “Good. Now, my announcement. I’ve already told the officers, but the rest of you need to know that Wren is mine, and I expect you to treat her with the same respect as you do Addison.” He glances at me and winks. “And if you can’t do that, I’m gone.”

“You’re what?” a third man snarls as he moves from the bar to stand in front of Journey. “I don’t think I heard you right.”

“You heard me just fine, Crow.”

“You’d really walk?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Crow stares at him for a moment before turning his attention to me. “Wren?”

“Uh, y-yes,” I stutter, doing my best not to let the voices win the struggle for control.

Crow smiles and strides toward me. “I’m Crow, the president of these yahoos. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It… What?”

He chuckles. “I take it you weren’t expecting to be welcomed with open arms.”

“Well, yeah. I mean… You do know that Stone is my dad, right?” I lean close and whisper, “And I’m kinda crazy.”

He erupts into laughter, and I can’t help but wonder what is so funny. I’m sweating bullets, and he’s acting like this is all normal.

“You’re gonna fit in just fine, Wren,” he finally says when his laughter subsides. “Welcome to the family.”

“I… thanks.”

Crow spins around to face Journey, who’s grinning like an idiot. “As for you, VP… You’re not goin’ anywhere. Soulless Kings stick together, no matter what.”

“I know, Pres. But she didn’t, and I needed to show her.”

“Yeah, I get that. Helluva way to get a point across, though.”

“Whatever it takes.”

“You heard him,” Crow shouts to the entire room. “Wren is one of us. Anyone who can’t accept that, there’s the door.” He points to the exit.

Not a single person moves in that direction. Quite the contrary. One by one, I’m engulfed in hugs by big, burly men who all seem to genuinely be happy about me being here.

Huh.

When I’m released by a man who introduced himself as Fudge, Journey takes his place.

“Told ya,” he whispers in my ear. “So, whaddya say, Wren? Wanna give this a shot?”

I take a step back to lock eyes with him. “Under one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“If you ever decide you want out, you have to be honest with me,” I tell him. “I don’t want you to stick around out of some misguided sense of pity.”

“Pity? Is that really what you think makes people stick around?”

“Honestly, I don’t know because no one’s ever stuck around.”