by Lane Hart
“Really?” I ask in surprise.
“We can move all the surveillance shit into one of the other apartments,” he says with a wave of his arm at the wall of monitors. “Cedric and I can come up with a schedule. With him working nights, of course, since he’s a prospect.”
“Of course,” I say with a grin.
“So, what do you say?” Reece asks. “Will you move in here with me? I know it’s not much space, and crowded most of the time with all the other guys and girls…”
“I would love to,” I tell him. Grasping his face between my hands I give him a swift kiss on the lips. “My apartment lease is actually up in a few months. I could maybe start bringing a few things over and then put my furniture in storage when it finally ends. Or I could rent my place out furnished.”
“Good,” Reece says. “It doesn’t have to be tomorrow, but eventually I would like this to be your home too. I know you would probably rather have a house…”
“No,” I tell him. “The clubhouse is perfect. I had a house once, and there was nothing but bad memories there. All the memories I have here are great ones.”
“We’ll make more great memories too,” Reece says before he lifts my hand from his face to bring it to his lips and kiss my knuckles. It’s such a simple gesture, maybe even forgettable for some women. But it means more than the world to me because the Savage Kings only kiss the knuckles of their queens.
I love this man, and I’m pretty sure he loves me too.
But it’s too soon to say those words. I want to make sure he’s there too before I do. And if not now, then I think he’ll be there soon.
Chapter Twenty-One
Reece
Two months later…
My brothers are sitting around the Savage Kings’ table, all of them eating Cynthia’s boob pastries about as lewdly as anyone would expect.
“Don’t any of you tell the old ladies we devoured Cynthia’s boobs today. They would never believe the truth,” Abe announces with a chuckle, making me roll my eyes before I watch him lick the pink icing off the center of the donut and end up with most of it in his beard.
I would never, ever, in a million years tell these guys that the pastries were my idea a few months ago. Or that I passed on bringing them the penis éclairs since I figured none of them would partake. I also wouldn’t admit that I like the taste of the éclair even more than the boob donuts.
The naughty pastries are Cynthia’s newest addition to The Toy Box. I bought her a tall, clear display case to go beside the front register, and she keeps boxes of fresh ones in the back, boxed up and ready to go.
I have a feeling that as many as she’s been making lately that she may be opening up her own bakery soon.
“Business is damn good, brothers,” Torin tells the group, getting the meeting started now that everyone’s devoured their delicious tits. Abe is right. The old ladies wouldn’t understand if they heard about it, unless they’ve seen them.
“I’ve just gone over last year’s numbers with Dalton,” Torin says. “And you’ll each be getting a nice little bonus at the end of the month. And let’s just say that your membership dues have been taken care of for a very long time.”
Our president’s announcement is accompanied by cheers and palms slapping on the Savage Kings’ meeting table.
“Let’s try to keep things running smooth this year, with as few distractions as possible,” Torin adds, to which everyone agrees. “That’s it for me today. Mostly I just wanted to check in with everyone since most of us have our families keeping us busy lately. It’s good to see you’re all still in one piece,” he jokes with a grin. “Now, is there any business we need to address?”
“I have something,” I hold up my fist and say to get their attention.
“Me too,” Miles says with a small wave of his hand.
“Okay. We’ll start with Reece. What’s up?” Torin asks, jaw clenched in concern since I usually only bring bad news to the table.
“Nothing to worry about,” I assure him. “It’s just that, you’ve all seen Cynthia around here a lot lately, and that’s because I’ve asked her to move into my apartment with me. Guess I should’ve asked you all first, but I didn’t think anyone would care since she’s proven to be trustworthy over the years. Her lease is expiring this week, so we’re ready to make it official.”
“Good for you,” Torin says. “I don’t see any problem with her staying in the clubhouse. All in favor?” he asks since permanent residence in the clubhouse has to be voted and approved by the majority.
There is nothing but yeas voiced around the room, as I expected.
“Thanks,” I tell my brothers, happy when none of them make any lewd comments. Most likely because they want to keep getting free donuts out of me and pissing me off would be the end of them. “I was also hoping to convert one of the empty apartments into our security headquarters to free up some of the space in mine. Cedric has been working with me in his free time the last few weeks, learning the ropes. So, unless anyone objects, I plan to split my responsibilities with him from now on, giving him nights. Our system will be set up with an alarm and a notification system, going out to all the members instantly if there are any physical or cyber break-ins.”
“Sounds good,” Torin agrees. “Anyone opposed to having our prospect handling security with Reece’s oversight?”
Heads shake, so Torin says, “Then it’s approved. Pick an apartment and set it all up however you want.”
“I appreciate it,” I tell them all, relaxing now that my personal shit is out in the open and there’s a plan in place to relieve me of some of the club’s security concerns.
“We ready to adjourn?” Chase, our VP, asks impatiently, already sliding his chair backward.
Torin’s even about to slam the gavel down when Miles says, “There’s something I need to bring to the table.”
“Oh, right. Sorry,” Torin apologizes, laying the gavel back down. “Is there a problem?”
Miles reaches up and scratches the side of his head that isn’t covered in tats and says, “Could be, yeah. Now, it’s not my fault or anything, but I may have made the club a new…enemy.”
“Enemy?” I ask in anger and disbelief. We’ve all been keeping our heads down and noses clean lately. Or so I thought. “What the fuck did you do, man?”
“All I was doing was protecting what’s mine, same as any of you would’ve done,” he responds defensively.
“What the hell happened?” Torin huffs, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Well, I, ah, accidentally killed a fucker who may be the right-hand man to a Russian mob boss.”
Curses erupt from every mouth in the room.
“Are you serious? How did you ‘accidentally’ kill him?” Sax asks.
“I put a bullet through his head,” Miles answers, garnering more curses. “Along with three of his buddies.”
Holy shit. It’s worse that I thought.
One dead Russian thug can be covered up; people disappear all of the time. But four of them? That’s a huge fucking problem.
“Jesus fuck! Why the hell did you do that, man?” Cooper grumbles before the rest of us can recover enough to ask.
“Because they broke into my house to rob me or kill me, probably both,” Miles explains. “And they were the same assholes who had been threatening my in-laws.”
My jaw drops before I’m able to process all of this new information. “I don’t know which is the most confusing part of all the shit you just said, the house part or the in-laws,” I mutter. “It definitely isn’t the murdering part. That seems par for the course, so why don’t you just back the fuck up and tell us what’s going on, brother.”
Reaching up to rub the back of his reddening neck, Miles tells us, “Well, I ah, bought a place out near the cape. Needs a little fixing up, but I got a good price.”
“Oh-kay,” Chase drawls. “You moved out of the clubhouse. Fine. What’s with the in-laws? You�
��re not married.”
“Actually, I am,” Miles replies.
“To whom?” I ask. “You were just trying to get with Cynthia a few months ago!”
“It’s all pretty new. Things happened fast,” Miles says in a rush. “Look, it doesn’t matter. The point is, if the Russian boss knows about my ties to the MC, he could come after us when his men don’t turn up.”
“That’s just fucking great!” War shouts at him. “Can’t have a year of peace without one of you going and stirring some shit up!”
“It’s not like I went looking for trouble!” Miles yells back. “I was trying to mind my own business at home when those fools broke in!”
“You were home with your…wife?” Torin asks, still sounding perplexed about how the hell this damn crazy as fuck bastard found a woman to put up with him. This chick must have some serious issues if she wants to spend her life tied to him.
“Yes. My wife,” Miles grits out. “We made it official six weeks ago. Coop was there.”
All of us turn to the end of the table where Coop silently nods his involvement before we look around at each other, trying to figure out what the hell is going on with Miles. Him in a relationship would be a shock. Him married? It’s unimaginable, something I’ll have to see to believe. And who in their right mind gets married within weeks of meeting?
“Why hasn’t anyone but Coop met her yet?” Chase asks him, echoing my same thoughts.
Miles scratches his head again, and says, “Ah, well, she’s sort of shy,” causing Coop to choke out what sounded like a laugh and a cough.
“Shy?” Gabe, who rarely talks in a meeting, speaks up and says. His words are heavy with skepticism. “You and shy don’t exactly go together, bro.”
“Tell me about it,” Miles huffs with a grin. “But I think I’m finally wearing her down.”
“By murdering men?” Torin asks.
“Yeah, men who were taking every penny from her parents. Now they’re done.”
“Done?” I ask. “You’re not that stupid, are you? The first names on that Russian boss’s shit list is going to be her folks. You need to get them someplace safe with new names and shit, the sooner the better before he realizes his men are missing.”
“Fuck,” Miles grumbles. “Guess you’re right.”
“Wow,” Torin says as he scrubs both hands down his face. “The Russian mafia?”
“I didn’t know it at the time,” Miles says. “If I had, I wouldn’t have gone straight to ending them.”
“Well, what’s done is done,” Torin responds. “I’ll talk to Jade and Knox. They’re close friends with the east coast’s Italian and Irish mafia boss.”
“Holy shit! Your sister knows both mob bosses?” Maddox asks with awe. “She’s a badass.”
Torin holds up a single finger. “Jade and Knox know the Italian and Irish mob boss singular. Ivan killed his father, the Italian boss, and then married the daughter of the head of the Irish mafia after her father went to prison. He’s been in charge of both syndicates for years and you barely hear a peep out of them now.”
“Wow,” Maddox responds. “Must be one tough motherfucker.”
“You think he can help with the Russian problem?” Miles asks.
“We can’t ask him to get tangled up in our shit,” Torin responds. “But maybe they’ll have some suggestions for how the fuck we’re supposed to proceed with the Russians without it ending in a bloodbath. If I had to guess, Ivan’s probably had run-ins over the years with them.”
“I’m sorry,” Miles blurts out, and it’s odd to hear an apology from his foul mouth. “I didn’t mean for this shit to happen. But she’s my wife. What else was I supposed to do when they barge into our house?”
The truth is, I can’t think of any good options. If he had called the cops, the boss would’ve only received notice of the murders sooner. So, even if Miles would’ve gotten off on self-defense, the threat would still be headed for us.
And when one of our brothers is in danger, the rest of us will back him up without blinking. Even if we wish he hadn’t started shit for us to clean up. Still, I believe Miles didn’t intend for this mess to go down. Now we’ll just have to get prepared, and make sure there’s no bloodshed, like with the Cartel.
“Do you need any help disposing of the bodies?” someone asks Miles, but I don’t hear his response thanks to the sudden shiver racing down my spine at the same time the hairs on the back of my neck start to prickle.
Fuck, that shit hasn’t happened since I noticed Cynthia was missing from the clubhouse.
Glancing down at my watch, I see that it’s already after four, which is when I told her I’d be coming by with reinforcements to help move her furniture to storage. Thanks to Miles’ clusterfuck, I’m now running late. I fucking hate being late.
“Are we done for today?” I ask. “Until Torin talks to Jade and Miles gets his in-laws somewhere safe?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Torin agrees. “We’ll meet back here in the morning to see where we’re at. And we’ll need you to beef up security everywhere.”
“No shit,” I mutter.
“Adjourned,” Torin says with a slam of his gavel on the table.
“Anyone free to do some moving this afternoon?” I ask as everyone starts heading out the door.
“I can help,” Sax offers.
“Thanks. I’ve got Cedric on notice too, so the three of us should be enough,” I tell him. “Give me a few minutes to make sure we’re in the clear security wise, transfer a few things to my phone while we’re both out, and then I’ll be ready.”
“Sounds good. I’ll find Cedric, and we’ll be up in the bar when you’re ready,” Sax replies.
…
Cynthia
This is it! I’m taping up the top of the very last box of belongings in my apartment, and next week I’ll be handing over the keys to the landlord.
Sure, I could’ve been packed and moved in with Reece within a week when he asked several months ago, but I took things slow to give him a chance to change his mind.
He didn’t.
In fact, he’s been rather impatient, continuing to ask me how much more work there is to do and if I need his help.
So, this afternoon, he’s bringing a few guys over to load up one of their trucks and drop off my kitchen table, bed, sofa and dresser, along with some boxes of knickknacks I don’t need, at a local storage center. It’s one that the Kings own, so I’m getting a good deal. Not that Reece will let me pay for it, like I’ve offered to pay for the display case he bought for me to sell my pastries in, or the security system he installed at The Toy Box.
Hearing the jiggling of the doorknob, I stand up and put the tape gun down on the kitchen table while calling out, “It’s open!” as I head to the door.
When it suddenly flies open so hard it slams against the hinges, I’m left staring at the last man I thought I would ever see again.
“Kirk?” I gasp in shock, even though it’s obviously him.
Years may have come and gone, but he still looks the same — black, wavy hair to his chin that’s always in need of a wash, and I’m pretty sure he’s wearing the same denim jacket he had on the night he nearly beat me to death. “Y-you can’t be here,” I say as I start backing away from the door.
Surely this is a nightmare. It has to be. “You’re supposed to…supposed to be in prison.”
“Not anymore, bitch!” he yells before he lunges for me.
Oh shit! Dream or not, I can’t afford to wait and find out. I turn and run, making it almost to the kitchen before an arm wraps around my waist. Looking for something, anything to use as a weapon, I’m out of luck. All of my kitchen knives have been in the Savage Asylum kitchen for weeks. So, I grab the one item in my reach – the tape gun — and start wailing on his arm with it, trying to cut him with the sharp edges while using my elbows to ram them back into his ribs.
“Goddammit!” he screams but finally releases me from his grip.
Kno
wing I have to get out of the apartment and fast, I drop the tape gun and start running back to the still open front door. I get to the foyer before he tackles me around both my knees, sending me crashing to the floor with him on top of me. He starts slamming something into the back of my head over and over, maybe the stupid tape gun I tried to use to hurt him. He shouts at me with each blow.
“You’re…gonna…regret…fucking…me…over!”
“Stop! Please stop!” I cry as pain explodes through the back of my skull. I try to buck him off of me to get to the door. My means of escape is so close, no more than a foot away, but still completely out of reach.
The beating stops just as I hear something slamming into the wall. A second later he’s pulling painfully on my hair and slamming my face straight down into the floor. The crunching sound of bones breaking is the last thing I remember before everything starts to fade away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Reece
As soon as I get upstairs to the bar, I try and call Cynthia to tell her I’m running late, but the call goes to voicemail. I try again and get the same result.
Shit.
The hairs on the back of my neck continue to prickle, making my heart race in my chest even though I’m sure everything is probably fine.
Cynthia could’ve been in the shower.
But all of her shower supplies are here now.
Or maybe she was taking a load of things down to her car.
That’s probably all it is.
“Let’s go,” I say to Sax and Cedric when I see them both sitting at the bar. “We’ll use Cedric’s truck to haul everything to the storage facility,” I explain as we walk into the parking lot. “It shouldn’t be much, just some furniture that’s awkward for one man to carry down two flights of stairs.”
“It’s okay to ask for help,” Sax says. “You’re not really Rambo.”
