Saved by the VP Enforcer

The first time Wayne Parton walked away from the Devil’s Crown, I thought he was walking away from me.

At twenty-two, I was too proud to admit there was a difference.

I found him in the garage before he went upstairs to see Daniel, sitting on the scarred workbench beneath fluorescent lights with two cups of coffee beside him and his cut still on his shoulders. Wayne never sat still in the garage unless something was wrong.

He lifted one cup toward me. “Black. Too much sugar.”

I frowned over the cup. “You complain about how I drink this every morning.”

Wayne tipped his own toward me. “And yet you keep drinking it.”

His attention dropped to my right hand.

Wayne nodded toward my knuckles. “What happened?”

I curled my fingers. “Nothing.”

Wayne gave me the look that made lying pointless. “Brick.”

I blew out a breath. “Some asshole needed correcting.”

Wayne reached for the first-aid kit above the sink. “Sit down.”

I stayed where I was. “I’m fine.”

Wayne opened the kit. “Sit down anyway.”

I muttered but took the stool beside him.

He cleaned the split skin over my knuckles with the same calm irritation he had used the first time I came home bleeding after a club fight. For three years, Wayne had fed me when I forgot to eat, found work when I needed money, and given me a couch when I had nowhere worth sleeping.

He never called me his kid, and I never called him anything close to a father. We both knew.

I watched him tape gauze over one knuckle. “You going to tell me why you’re acting weird?”

Wayne kept his attention on my hand. “I’m turning in my patch.”

I stared at him.

I pulled my hand away. “That isn’t funny.”

Wayne met my eyes. “Wasn’t a joke.”

I folded my arms. “For Serena?”

Wayne rested a hip against the workbench. “Yes.”

Serena Brown.

I had never met her. I knew she was younger than Wayne, that he had been seeing her for more than a year, and that he had started disappearing from the clubhouse after she came into his life. Then he bought a house outside town and told me he planned to marry her.

I gestured toward his cut. “You’re quitting because you’re getting married?”

Wayne shook his head once. “I’m leaving because I love her.”

I gave him a flat look. “Same thing.”

Wayne’s mouth tightened. “It isn’t.”

Wayne rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I don’t want Serena around this life.”

I folded my arms. “She too good for us?”

Wayne straightened. “That’s not what I mean.”

I spread my hands. “Then what do you mean?”

Wayne glanced toward the garage door. “I don’t want her learning which rival club is pissed at us, checking mirrors because somebody might follow her home, or sitting in a hospital because Daniel sent me somewhere stupid.”

He paused.

Wayne lowered his voice. “And I don’t want her getting a call telling her I’m dead.”

That shut me up.

Wayne had been patched longer than I could remember. I had never heard him talk about dying like it frightened him.

I leaned against the tool chest. “You’re not going to die.”

Wayne gave me the patient look he saved for when I was being stupid. “Everybody does.”

I scowled. “You know what I mean.”

Wayne picked up his coffee. “I do. I also know I finally have something I’m not willing to gamble.”

I looked away. “You had things before her.”

Wayne’s expression softened. “I still do.”

I glanced back at him. “Doesn’t sound like it.”

Wayne set the coffee down. “Brick.”

I cut in. “You’re leaving.”

Wayne nodded once. “I’m leaving the club.”

I pushed away from the tool chest. “And everybody in it?”

Wayne let out a slow breath. “I’m not keeping one foot here and one foot with Serena.”

I laughed without humor. “So yes.”

Wayne’s gaze held mine. “For a while.”

I shook my head. “That means yes.”

Then Wayne stepped closer and put a hand on the back of my neck.

I went still.

He had done that when I was nineteen and stupid enough to think getting hit proved something, and again after my first real club job when I came back pretending nothing had shaken me.

Wayne’s voice went quieter. “You’re going to be all right.”

I looked down. “Don’t.”

Wayne’s hand stayed where it was. “Don’t what?”

I swallowed. “Talk to me like I’m some kid you’re dropping off.”

Wayne studied me. “You were a kid when I met you.”

I lifted my chin. “I’m not now.”

Wayne squeezed the back of my neck once. “No. You’re not.”

I wanted him to keep his hand there, which made me angrier.

Wayne let go. “You’re a good man, Brick.”

I snorted. “That supposed to make me feel better?”

Wayne shook his head. “It’s supposed to make you remember something.”

I followed his gaze toward Daniel’s office upstairs.

Wayne’s expression hardened. “You don’t have to become whatever these men need just because you’re good at it.”

I frowned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Wayne stepped back toward the workbench. “It means you’re old enough to decide what kind of man you want to be without me standing over your shoulder.”

There were plenty of things I could have told him, but the one sitting in my throat was humiliating.

I don’t want you to stop standing there.

Instead I stepped away.

I forced my voice flat. “So that’s it.”

Wayne gave me a small nod. “That’s it.”

I stared at him. “You’re really choosing her.”

Wayne did not flinch. “Yes.”

I hated Serena Brown for how easily he answered.

An hour later, I stood outside while Wayne strapped a bag to his motorcycle. Seeing him without his cut felt wrong.

Wayne checked the strap, then glanced at me. “You eating tonight?”

I stared back at him. “Seriously?”

Wayne pointed at me. “You didn’t answer.”

I shoved my hands into my pockets. “I’ll eat.”

Wayne narrowed his eyes. “Something that didn’t come from a vending machine.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m twenty-two.”

Wayne’s mouth twitched. “And somehow still incapable of buying groceries.”

For one second, I almost smiled. Then Wayne swung onto his bike.

I stepped closer. “You really willing to leave everybody behind for a woman?”

Wayne pulled on his gloves and looked at me through the open visor. “For the woman I love? Yeah, Brick. I am.”

He started the engine.

Wayne gave me one last look. “Take care of yourself, kid.”

I wanted to tell him not to call me that and make him promise leaving the Crown did not mean leaving me too. I did neither.

Wayne rode out without his colors, headed toward a woman I had never met and a life he had decided mattered more than the one behind him.

Serena Brown.

Soon to be Serena Parton.

I watched his taillight disappear and made myself a promise that felt easy at twenty-two.

If Serena Brown mattered enough for Wayne to leave all of us behind, I never wanted to meet her.