King's Descendants MC - BOXED SET

by Bella Jewel

  “I can’t imagine how hard it has been for you. I’m sorry your world got quite literally ripped out from beneath you.”

  “You know the worst part?” she says, fidgeting with her hands. “Is that nobody has actually sat down and asked me what my life was really like. They decided I was in a bad place, they decided that I needed to be saved, and they took me out without ever considering that I might not have wanted to be taken away. They never asked. They never even tried to see my side of things.”

  Poor girl.

  Even if being with Bryant was toxic to her, she didn’t know that. Hell, she probably still doesn’t. She’s been living a life that felt okay to her, and because of that, she sees Briella and the club as the bad guys, because they took her from a place where she honestly believed she was happy.

  “What was it like there?” I ask her, sitting on the sofa.

  She leans forward, placing her elbows on her knees. “It was fine. Honestly. He treated me well, for the most part. It wasn’t a violent existence. He took care of me, he fed me, he loved me. Sure, he gave me drugs and I will admit my life was somewhat of a blur, but I was living that life on the streets anyway. Only I was in a whole lot more danger out there.”

  “He never hurt you?” I ask, quite shocked at this revelation.

  She shakes her head. “Not really, no. I mean sure, there were times ... he got angry or I did something wrong, but mostly, he was good to me. I was his favorite, I know that. But I loved him. He loved me. I know that nobody believes that, how could they, they only see what they want to see, but it’s the truth. Just because it was broken doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.”

  My god.

  This girl is tugging at my heartstrings in a way I haven’t felt in such a long time.

  I feel her words more than she’ll ever know.

  “I know what you mean,” I say to her, my voice soft. “I know because I have lived through something nobody could understand either. Hell, I didn’t understand it half the time, yet I couldn’t walk away. I truly loved him, though. In the most twisted, sick way. I did. I really did.”

  “Is he the one who hurt you?” Cova asks, her eyes meeting mine.

  “Yes.”

  “Briella told me you were in hospital because your ex hurt you. I’m sorry that happened.”

  “It’s life, isn’t it?” I say bitterly, then give her a smile.

  She smiles back. “Yeah, I suppose it is. Listen, I like you. You’re the first person since I’ve been in this god forsaken place that I’ve actually wanted to talk to. I’d like to hang out sometime ...”

  I give her a bigger smile than the one I was already giving her. “Sounds great to me.”

  And just like that, I have found someone who understands.

  “I’M NOT SNOOPING, ALARICK,” I mutter, crossing my arms. “I already gave you something good to go off, but I’m not going to look into Blanche. I’ve told you this, and I mean it. I’m sorry you don’t like it, but you have to know I’m not risking everything for something I know isn’t a thing.”

  “It is a fuckin’ thing,” Alarick growls, pacing his office, arms crossed. “You’re refusin’ to see it, but it’s real and you’re the only fuckin’ person close enough to find what we need.”

  “What we need is to find Dax, what we need is to do a search on his house, what we need is to get into that god damned house and look around. What we don’t need is to waste our time looking into an officer that has nothing to do with this.”

  Kendric, who is sitting on the sofa beside Bohdi, stands and walks over to me, stopping in front of me. “You need to do this.”

  “I’m not doing it, Kendric.”

  His eyes hold mine, angrily. “You’re wastin’ fuckin’ time because you refuse to believe that he has anything to do with this. We find out what he knows, we find Dax. You want me to go down?”

  “Fuck you,” I snap, angrily. “You know damn well I don’t want you to go down. I’m doing my best.”

  “No, you’re fuckin’ not.”

  Rage bubbles in my chest, and I struggle to push it down. I’m trying to help them, but they’re so set on Blanche that they’re not seeing anything else. They’re not even willing to consider that they’re wasting time. I’m not risking everything for them to be chasing their damned tails with the wrong fucking thing.

  “God dammit, I’m not listening to this anymore. I have things to do, I have a person to find and you’re all wasting time on Blanche when you could be out there finding Dax.”

  I turn and walk toward the door, but Kendric walks up behind me and stops me, hand on my shoulder. I turn, jerking my shoulder from his grips. I’m wild with anger and he’s staring at me in a way that tells me he damn well knows that. “You’re working at his house tonight, at the very least, look around.”

  I shake my head, frustrated.

  “I’m going to meet him for lunch. I’m not discussing this. I actually have a job to do.”

  “Where are you goin’?” Alarick asks.

  I look to him. “What?”

  “Where are you goin’ for lunch?”

  “The Water Bar, why?”

  “I was curious. Nothin’ major. Keep your eyes peeled, Zariah. You’ll see we’re right about this, I just hope it’s not too late.”

  I make a loud, angry sound in my throat and storm out.

  I’m frustrated.

  And fuck them.

  Seriously. Fuck them.

  I stop in the toilet before I leave, and just as I’m walking out, I slam into a hard body. Kendric puts his hands on my shoulders and pushes me back in, slamming my back into the basin. “What are you doing?” I cry, shocked.

  His eyes lock onto mine. “You want to storm out like a fuckin’ child, I’m goin’ to punish you like a fuckin’ child.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but his hand goes up around my throat and I find myself immediately at his mercy, wanting it without hesitation. “I’m not helping you, so you’re punishing me?”

  “Yeah,” he growls, his free hand going down to my pants where he undoes my belt with one swift movement.

  Everything falls to the ground. He takes my pants and undoes them, his other hand still on my throat, his grip not tight but definitely using slight pressure. I love it, god do I love it.

  “You look fuckin’ good in uniform. Shouldn’t want anything to do with a cop, but you do things to me, Zariah ...”

  Oh, boy.

  He shoves my pants down, and I wiggle them the rest of the way. My hand goes to his jeans, and I undo the button, slip down the zip and then let them slide down. His cock springs free, and I curl my fingers around it, loving how warm it feels in my hand. How hard. How fucking delicious. I bite my lip and meet his eyes. “Are you going to fuck me or did we come here to play?”

  He growls and then releases my throat, spins me around, and bends me over the sink. His hand goes back to my neck, only he’s hanging onto the back of it this time. He takes my hip roughly in his other hand and then he slams his cock into me without warning. I cry out, not caring who hears, because it feels so damned good. The pain. Everything that comes with it. I moan as he starts fucking me, so roughly his balls slap against my bare pussy.

  “Oh, god,” I cry out, loving the way my nipples immediately get hard and my entire body coils, ready to explode with pleasure.

  Pleasure I crave.

  Pleasure I need.

  “Kendric,” I cry, arching. “Oh, god, yes.”

  I cum with a force that has me shoving my ass back into him as hard as I can, needing every single centimeter of him inside me. He growls, low and feral, and then he’s cumming, hard and deep, cock pulsing. I whimper and my entire body trembles as I come down from the most incredible release. It feels like heaven—like I imagine heaven, anyway.

  Kendric pulls his cock out, releasing me. His cum drips from my pussy as I stand and it’s only then that I realize we didn’t use protection. That’s fine, I’m on the pill, but it’s not pregnanc
y I’m worried about. It’s the fact that he’s a biker, he has plenty of women, and he could have anything. I pull my pants up, get myself dressed and neat, and then turn to him.

  “I’m clean,” he says, before I can even ask the question. “Never go without a condom for random bitches, and I get checked once every six months. Only did it a month ago. Used condoms since except then. You’re good.”

  Well then, that clears up everything.

  “Me, too,” I say my voice still shaky from sex.

  I catch a glimpse of us in the mirror and pause. What a sight we are. Two of us, him all dressed in leather, looking wild and dangerous, and me, in uniform, looking clean cut and good. It’s quite a match. His eyes meet mine, and he murmurs, “Thought you weren’t workin’ after what that motherfucker did to you.”

  “I’m working with Blanche, nothing strenuous,” I tell him, holding his gaze in the mirror.

  He turns and walks to the door, looking back at me when he reaches it. “When you’re sittin’ with him later, make sure you’re thinkin’ about whose cum is dripping’ out of you.”

  Then, just like that ... He’s gone.

  16

  ZARIAH

  “You wait in the car and I’ll get the check,” Steven tells me once we’ve finished our lunch at the restaurant.

  We’re going to his house to keep working on the case tonight and hopefully we’ll get a little closer to finding out where the missing girl is and what happened to her. I love working on this; it takes my mind off the bad things going on around me and makes me feel like I’ve got something to work toward. I am enjoying every second of it.

  I thank Steven and then go to his car and slip into the passenger seat. As I wait, I look around. Not for any particular reason, just purely because that’s what you do when you’re in someone’s car, right? I mean, that’s what I do anyway. I notice a piece of paper sort of squashed into his seat, and I reach over and pluck it out, opening it up. There is some scrawled handwriting on it, that reads Steven, things to go as planned. We’re set up for transport. You know what to do from here. Peter.

  Peter?

  I swallow, my heart picking up a few notches as I read the note again, and again. Who is Peter? Surely it can’t be the same Peter who is working with Dax. No, it must be someone else. Probably something to do with a case. It’s just a coincidence that the person who wrote it’s called Peter. There plenty of Peters in the world, right? And transport, that’s probably just a package or something he’s getting shipped in regard to a case.

  He has nothing to do with this.

  I scrunch up the note and shove it into my pocket, mostly because I’m scared if I put it back, it’ll look wrong and he’ll know I touched it. I’m better off just playing dumb. I sit, my hands fidgeting, as I wait for Steven to get into the car. He arrives a few minutes later and climbs in, oblivious to the fact that his little note has gone. Maybe he forgot about it or hasn’t even seen it.

  That would make sense.

  “Are you ready to go and finish up the case? Did you have anything you needed to do before we get to work?”

  I shake my head. “No, I’m okay. My son is with my nanny tonight; I told her we’d be working late. Let’s go and crack this.”

  He smiles and starts the car, pulling out and driving the twenty or so minutes to his house. When we arrive, I stare up in awe. He has a massive home—I suppose he would being as popular as he is, he must make a lot of money. His house is two stories, a dark brown brick, high roof, gorgeous gardens. It looks like something that belongs in a history book. It looks old and yet well taken care of, like it has only been there a year instead of over a hundred.

  “This house is spectacular,” I breathe.

  “Thank you, it’s over a hundred years old. I purchased it off my grandparents about five years ago.”

  “It’s incredible. You’ve really taken care of it.”

  “You wait until you see the inside.”

  We get out of the car, and I admire the beauty of the home with every step we take, from the stone steps, to the timber patio, to the gorgeous gardens and beautiful green lawn. When Steven opens the door and we step inside, I’m utterly blown away. The walls are the same gorgeous brick as outside, and the floors a deep brown. The furniture is all antique, matching the houses character. There are beautiful old rugs, pictures, chandeliers. Everything you could imagine is in this home.

  It’s absolutely stunning.

  “Oh, oh my. I feel like I’ve just stepped back a hundred years. This is incredible.”

  “Thank you.” Steven smiles, walking into the large living area with a roaring fireplace. “I take a lot of pride in my home.”

  “I can tell.”

  “Let me show you around, and then I’ll show you my office. It’s quite large, with an incredible view.”

  He shows me around the rest of the house, with its eight bedrooms, old ballroom, two dining areas, three living areas, and a kitchen that utterly takes my breath away. When we arrive in his office, I’m completely taken aback at how large it actually is. It’s bigger than my apartment, I’m sure of it. He has a huge timber desk overlooking a large window that showcases his entire garden.

  “Oh, wow, I don’t know how you go to work when you have an office like this,” I breathe.

  “Believe me, I don’t know either. Please, take a seat. Would you like a drink?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I take a seat while he goes to his office fridge and gets me a drink. Then, we get down to business. Straight into it. That’s what I like about him. There is no messing around. We work for what seems like hours, until the sun sets and I’m starving. I step away from the laptop to stretch my body.

  “Are you hungry?” Steven asks. “I’ll make us some dinner, if you’d like?”

  I should get home, but the idea of eating right now is tempting. I’m starving.

  “I should get home ...”

  “Let me feed you first. I can’t expect you to go home hungry after you’ve been helping me all day. I’ll make something quick and easy.”

  “That would be really nice, thank you.”

  He smiles at me and stands, stretching out. “Go for a look around the house, by all means. I won’t be too long.”

  “I might just do that.”

  I flash him another smile and then set off to explore the gorgeous house. Every room I walk into is different, and yet all of them are decked out so historically, they’re utterly beautiful. I see grand pianos, old furniture, book collections and the most exquisite art pieces. I reach a door that is labeled basement, and I find myself hesitating. The note flashes through my mind and, with an outstretched hand, I wonder if I should be looking down there.

  It’s not my place to snoop down there.

  Yet ... the note has me turning the doorhandle.

  It couldn’t hurt to have a quick look. I’ve found nothing else so far—if the basement is clear, then I’ll know the note was nothing and I can free my mind of it.

  Feeling better about my logical plan, I twist the knob and walk down to the large basement.

  The first thing I see is a massive wine cellar. The biggest I’ve ever seen. Walls and walls of wine bottles. I walk over, in complete awe, and pull out a bottle of wine that is over fifty years old. This is incredible. Large barrels are stacked in the corner and there is a beautiful light that automatically turns on when you walk in there, lighting up the spectacular space.

  It’s stunning.

  I keep walking around, letting my eyes scan over things a little more than I usually would. Guilt tugs at my chest, mostly because I’m letting my mind get the better of me and I’m looking into someone I don’t honestly believe has anything to do with this. Still, I won’t be able to stop thinking about it if I don’t just look and get it over with. So far, it’s a clean basement. Not a single thing lying around that would indicate anything is off here.

  I walk past a pile of old boxes and something catches my eye in
between two of them. I lean down, squinting, and shuffle the boxes apart just a little to get a better look. Someone has scratched the wall, deep penetrating scratches that can be seen by the naked eye standing up. I lean in closer, trying to get a better look without having to move the pile of boxes sitting in front of it. I can see a few letters, maybe even a date, but I can’t read what it says.

  Dammit.

  I glance behind me, and when I don’t see anyone, I very quickly move two of the boxes. They’re heavy and they hurt my very fragile body as I lift and move them. Then I lean in and pull out my phone, taking a quick snap of the writing on the wall. I don’t get a chance to read what it says, because I hear a noise above. Steven is coming. I stand, shoving my phone into my pocket and quickly lifting the boxes and placing them back before rushing back into the wine cellar.

  Steven appears a moment later, and I pretend to be staring in awe at the wine once more.

  “This is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen,” I say, acting as if him coming down here was zero surprise at all.

  “You like wine?” he asks, seemingly unfazed that I’m down here.

  If he was worried, he’d be upset. If he had something to hide, he’d be angry.

  He’s neither of those things.

  “To be honest, I’m not a huge fan, but this room ...”

  “It’s my pride and joy,” he tells me with a smile. “I love coming down here. It’s my favorite place in this whole house.”

  I turn to him and rub my stomach. “Something smells amazing.”

  It really does, actually. The smell of garlic and something else fills my nose, and my stomach gurgles.

  “Come, let me feed you.”

  We walk upstairs and into the dining room where he has set out two plates of what looks like a delicious stir-fry. I take a seat and breathe in the incredible smell. “You cook too?” I laugh. “This looks amazing.”