Arthur snorted. “You mean Fight Club?”

“That’s the one.”

Cupping my elbow, Arthur guided me toward the back of the large room. “I learned a lot from your father, Cleo. Let me know how I do when compared to Thorn.”

I wanted to scream that he should stop comparing himself to anyone. He was Arthur. He was perfect. He’s mine.

Instead, I asked, “You’re taking me to Church?”

Arthur didn’t reply as Grasshopper opened the door in invitation. He bowed in my direction. “After you, Butterbean.”

“Quit it with that fucking nickname.” Arthur cuffed him around the back of his head.

Nervousness tickled my insides with effervescent bubbles as I entered the large oblong room where I’d been taken the day I’d almost been sold. Instead of pizza boxes and beer littering the large table, now it was empty with neatly clasped hands of groomed and gnarly bikers.

I wanted to ask Arthur again if there was some mistake. Surely, I wasn’t allowed here.

“Kill!”

“Hey, Prez.”

Men shouted out greetings, friendship, and respect.

Oh, God, what am I doing here?

It wasn’t that I was afraid of being in a room full of men. It wasn’t even that I had no urge to listen to plans about vengeance and mayhem. It was the fact meetings were never done in the presence of women—I was out of place, an infiltrator.

This is a man’s domain.

Holding up his hand, Arthur waited until gentle murmurs and sporadic laughter died down. “I’ll discuss every facet and answer every question, but prepare yourselves for hard work over the next few days.” His green eyes pinned each brother into his seat, glowing with authority. “I want riders sent out to all the Clubs who have agreed to back us. I want memos and emails sent to the Clubs overseas to arrange additional support if required. And I want gossip to spread how fucking raging I am. How unstoppable I’ll be. How disastrous things will become for those standing in our way.”

The twenty or so Pure Corruption brothers nodded, their fists clenching in preparation. “We’ll shout far and wide, Prez. By the end of next week, we’ll own this fucking country and everyone who ever betrayed us will be alligator chum.”

A shiver shot down my spine.

Arthur suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer. “As you know, this is Cleo Price. Her father was Thorn Price of Dagger Rose. She’s mine. And I want you to welcome her into our family with open fucking arms.”

Smiles split leathered faces. Laughs bubbled from mouths.

“I take it your name was never Sarah, then.”

My eyes fell on the biker who’d joked and pried for personal information between Art and I the first time I’d been in this room.

I shook my head. “It’s a long story.”

“Too long, and it’s time to begin.” Arthur moved away from me, stomping in large black boots to take his appointed throne at the head of the table.

Grasshopper moved, too, yanking out a chair before throwing himself onto the hard seat and tossing his phone onto the table.

Lost, I stood like an out-of-place toy.

Men bowed their heads together, conversation sprouting from all corners in one loud hum.

My ears rang with their masculine deepness, revealing innermost secrets and tales of Pure Corruption.

I wasn’t a patched in member. Prospects weren’t allowed and definitely not women.

I wasn’t even Arthur’s officially.

I shouldn’t be here.

Inching toward the door, I pressed on the handle and cracked it open.

No one paused in their river of conversation, and I prepared to slip silently through.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Arthur asked, planting his palms on the table. Even from here the color of his eyes was muddy and pain-riddled.

I shrugged. I thought it was obvious and what was expected of me. After all, I owned a vagina, not a penis. “Um, giving you guys time to talk.”

Men laughed as if I’d quipped the funniest joke in history.

Mo came into the room, striding past me with a smirk. His blond shaggy hair was windswept and sunshine compared to Arthur’s brooding darkness. “You’re too cute.”

I scowled. “Cute? Why am I cute?”

Mo laughed. “Because you’re still hung up on old Club rules. Haven’t you learned anything these past few weeks?”

No, because Arthur refuses to share anything!

Arthur crooked his finger. “There’s a seat over there. Take it.”

“But I thought you’re going to discuss Club—”

“Business—exactly.” Arthur pursed his lips. “You have as much right to contribute as every other member here.”

My eyes popped wide. “Even though I’m a girl?”

Grasshopper laughed. “After everything you’ve seen of Pure Corruption and the weirdo that runs it, you still believe meetings are just for guys?” Looking around, he added, “That’s a point, where are those two-bit hussies?”

“Don’t you fucking talk trash about my old lady, man.” A biker curled his fist, waving it dramatically at Hopper. He laughed, showing a grill of gold teeth and softening his threat to a joke. “Wait till you have your own ball and chain—then you’ll watch your fucking mouth.”

“Can’t tie me down, boys.” Grasshopper chuckled.

What on earth is going on here?