Guilty Bastard (Grim Bastards MC) - Shelley Springfield
The sound of something crashing against the wall sends a shiver down my spine. Someone is pissed way the fuck off, and that’s never a good thing at the clubhouse. Anger often leads to bloodshed between the brothers. At least, it did before Boz took the gavel a few months ago. Since then, the brotherhood seems stronger, more united.
Another crash draws my eyes to a closed door at the end of the hall, our VP’s room. Well, Round was the Grim Bastards’ VP. He stepped down not long after Boz took over. Even though he doesn’t wear an officer’s patch anymore, he still holds the room and all the benefits that come with it.
Even as nothing more than a hanger-on, I know Round’s reasons for stepping down as VP. He thinks the club needs new blood, and I agree. When our old Pres was killed, the club needed to be rebuilt. That couldn’t happen with the same people sitting by the new Pres’ side. Round’s son, Smoke, took his spot by the Pres’ side. The kid is doing an amazing job.
An enraged scream reaches my ears, and my heart skips a beat. Round is mad, pissed as fuck to be more accurate. He and a few of the boys just got back from a run. The rumor around the clubhouse is they passed his wife driving down the road, with her lover in the car with her. Any illusions of a happy couple were ruined in that moment. Now, everyone knows she’s fucking around on him.
Ignoring the sounds of things crashing against the wall, I continue down the hall. I’ve almost made it past Round’s room, when the door swings open. He comes rushing out, running right into me. My body starts to sway backwards, just before his hands wrap around my arms to pull me tight to his muscular chest.
“What the fuck?” he asks, his voice scratchy and gruff. “I could’ve knocked you on your ass.”
Looking up, my eyes lock on his. “I’m sorry, Round.”
His brown eyes are staring straight at me, sending a shiver right to my core. The laugh lines fanning around them remind me once again of the laughter I miss so much. Unable to stop myself, I take in his face, just as I have a million other times. His lashes are long and thick, causing his beautiful eyes to stand out even more. His brows are still dark as night, but his hair and beard are a stunning silver, with only a hint of the black they once were.
His hair is pushed back from his face, thick with a bit of a wave. It just reaches his collar, curling slightly right at his ears. He wears a full beard, covering his chin. His nose is straight and strong, and paired with high cheekbones, that’s a combination for a ruggedly handsome face.
“Fuck, Lisa. Did I hurt you?” he asks, not letting me go.
“No,” I mumble, my eyes going back to his.
For years, I’ve wanted this man. Wanted him enough to quit taking other men to bed, wanted him enough to turn down three different brothers when they asked me to be their old lady. I fell in love with him, even though it’s caused me nothing but pain. I knew that if I couldn’t have him, I didn’t want anyone. He already has an old lady, but that hasn’t stopped me from wanting him.
At first, I stayed away because of his wife. I stayed away out of respect to her and their children. Then, Round started staying at the clubhouse. He even took some of the girls to his bed. Not me, though. I started to lose respect for him, thinking he was like every other man in the club. Then, I saw his old lady with another man. It only took one look to know that the two of them were more than friends.
After that, I didn’t worry so much about his wife, and Round and I grew closer. Still, he never tried to get me in his bed. Instead, he would spend hours talking to me, playing cards, and drinking. When he was done, he’d grab one of the girls and head to his room. Each time, my heart broke a little.
As we’ve grown closer, he finally told me that his old lady was done. She doesn’t want him anymore, doesn’t want to be part of the club. Yet, he still won’t let her go. His kids don’t know; they would blame him for