by Nina Levine
I stumbled backwards, like I’d been punched hard in the gut.
I would never just take it from her.
Fucking never.
But would I have if she hadn’t been able to fight me off?
Bile lodged in my throat, and my mind raced to catch up with everything happening.
Fuck.
I had to get out of here.
I needed to put distance between us and get my fucking head together.
I had to figure out if I was willing to put Ivy at risk again.
At risk of being hurt by me.
10
King
Fifteen Years Ago
Age 24
* * *
There were moments in your life that changed everything. Sometimes they were planned. Sometimes fate dealt them. As I leaned back against the clubhouse couch and forced the club whore’s mouth down over my dick, I closed my eyes and drew in a long breath. This was a moment I would never forget.
Planned? Yes.
Life altering? Yes.
Fucked up? Fuck yes.
But then, fucked up was my style. So Ivy shouldn’t have ever figured me for anything else.
I’d spent nearly six months working up to this moment. After the night I almost forced myself on her. Hell, I’d tried to do this in a civilised manner, but she hadn’t accepted that. It turned out that although she’d thrown her walls up at me for months, she blanched at the idea of us walking away from each other. She’d refused to accept a break-up, declaring her love for me and promising to try harder. Never wanting to imagine a life without her, I’d allowed our dysfunction to continue. So here we were about to spiral into poison and a betrayal we were guaranteed to never recover from.
My only option to keep her safe.
Fuck.
Just the thought of what I was doing to Ivy caused my dick to shit itself and soften in the whore’s mouth.
I pressed harder on her head. “Suck it, bitch. If you can’t make me fucking hard, I’ll find someone who can.”
She glanced up at me with a scowl. “Screw you, King. I’m fucking trying here. It’s not my fault if you can’t get it up. How long’s it been since you’ve had a decent blow job anyway?”
I eased my body to a sitting position and wrapped my hand around her neck. Squeezing her hard, I snarled, “You wanna keep that shit up about my woman, and I’ll make fucking sure your ass is out of this club faster than you can open your fucking legs. I asked you to suck me off. I didn’t fucking ask you to argue with me or speak to me.” My fingers dug harder into her skin. “You think you can manage that?”
Fear crawled across her face. She nodded, but her previous confidence disappeared. When she answered me, her voice held the hesitation I could see in her eyes. “Yes.”
Thank fuck for that. I needed this shit to happen now. There wasn’t any time to fucking waste.
I let her go and sprawled back against the couch. I reached for the bottle of whisky that sat next to me, and took a long swig of it while she got to work.
Another club whore came into view, smiling down at me. “Sorry I’m late, King. I got sidetracked doin—”
I motioned for her to get her ass onto the couch next to me. “Just get your tits out and put them in my mouth.” I didn’t have time to listen to her bullshit.
The fact she didn’t argue with me made my fucking day.
By the time Ivy entered the clubhouse bar where I lounged with my dick in one whore’s mouth and my lips wrapped around another whore’s tits, I’d zoned the fuck out. I wasn’t getting off on any of it. Instead, I was counting down the minutes until Ivy found me.
My eyes met hers as she came to an abrupt stop. I didn’t move. I simply kept sucking the tit in my mouth. Kept fingering the cunt riding my hand. And kept fucking the mouth wrapped around my dick.
Seven years flashed right before my eyes, though.
Seven years of loving Ivy.
Fuck, if we were really counting the years I’d loved her, it was more like thirteen.
I watched as the shock, anger, and utter disappointment hit her. I took in the way her face contorted, and her shoulders slumped for a moment before she squared them again and prepared to go to battle with me.
Always fighting me.
“You fucking bastard!” Her pain screeched out of her, slamming into me. I was deeply intimate with Ivy’s pain, but this was a whole new type of hurt for her.
I had never once cheated on her. I knew she still wondered about it, because club whores could be summoned with the click of a finger, but I’d sworn my loyalty to her when I was seventeen. And I fucking lived by that loyalty. It was the one thing I believed in. The code I lived by. When I swore loyalty, I fucking meant it.
And yet, there I was.
Breaking that code and shitting all over the one relationship that meant the most to me.
Ivy’s madness consumed her as she ripped both the whores away from me. Her eyes dropped to my dick before straying to my hand that had just been inside a pussy that wasn’t hers. Her face curved in disgust and disbelief right before her hands pummelled my chest.
“How could you do this to us?” she yelled as she straddled me, still beating her hands against my chest.
Fuck, there was the fight I craved.
But it was also the fight that I knew would be the death of us eventually.
Ivy and I were on a path of destruction. We loved each other too much. Too fiercely. Too fucking savagely. We would never survive this kind of love.
Jethro had made me understand that. He’d shown me how I was slowly killing Ivy. We weren’t a match made in heaven. We were each made in hell—our parents saw to that—and we would burn there together if we continued pushing each other to the edge of crazy.
I allowed her to continue her tirade, only stopping her when she slapped my face and yelled, “I gave you everything. Everything! And you knew how hard that was for me. You told me you’d never fuck us up!”
I gripped both her wrists and stopped her. “I told you last week I wanted to end this, but you didn’t listen.”
Her eyes widened. “And I told you I was willing to change, to work on us, because I love you. I thought that’s what we were doing.”
“No, that’s what you were doing. I never agreed to that.”
She tried to wiggle out of my hold, but I tightened my grasp on her wrists and held her in place. I needed her to take this in.
Her breathing grew ragged. She blinked rapidly to stop tears from falling. Ivy hated crying. That she was close to it now told me I was on the right track. I just needed to push her harder.
“Why are you doing this, King?” she begged. “I don’t understand.”
My chest tightened at her plea. Fuck. This was more difficult than I’d prepared myself for. “All we do is argue. I’m sick to fucking God of it.” And I’ll probably kill you one day if we keep dancing this dance. No fucking way would I allow myself to kill the woman I loved. I needed to know she was safe. Safe from me.
“You’re not sick of it. There’s something else going on here. I want you to tell me what it is.” Her eyes implored me just as much as her words did. Ivy wasn’t giving up without a fight. Because that was what we did. We fought not only over random meaningless shit, but we went to battle for each other. For us.
Jesus, was the threesome not enough to make her walk? To make her hate me? I clenched my jaw. “Ivy. We’re done.” My tone was low, full of warning. I needed her to take note. I did not want to have to speak any more lies to force her hand. Lies that would, by necessity, shatter her.
She yanked her wrists from my hold. Her eyes flashed with the passion that called to me. Fuck, how I loved Ivy’s fire. “We are not done! We’ve been through too much together to ever be done, King. You might be an asshole and possessive as hell and fucked up, but you are also the man who has made me feel more loved than anyone ever has.”
“If you really wanna know what’s going on here, I’ll tell you.
” Sucking in a deep breath, I steeled myself to inflict a level of hurt on her that would kill me to do. “I’ve spent thirteen fucking years propping you up, Ivy. You’re weak. I need a stronger woman by my side. So you need to pack your fucking bags and get the fuck out of my life. This thing between us is over.”
My words hit their intended mark. She froze as they sliced and suffocated her. And those tears of hers finally fell. She wasn’t done with me yet, though. In true Ivy fashion, she had to have the last say. “I tried hard to be the woman you needed, King. I wasn’t perfect, but I fucking tried. You are a hard man to love, let me tell you. Demanding, bossy, irrational, and I’m almost certain you’re half insane. And yet I still loved you through all of that. Even your fucked-up needs when it came to sex weren’t enough to push me away. I might have failed you there, but I fucking tried!” She jabbed a finger at me. “Fuck you for being a motherfucker who can’t keep his dick in his pants. I thought you were so much more than that.”
By the time she was done, black tears streamed down her face as her body shook with anger and hurt. She looked at me like I’d driven a knife through her heart. Like I’d pierced her soul and drained every last drop of love and trust she’d ever been able to find in her darkness.
The worst kind of betrayal comes from those you love.
I’d achieved my goal.
Ivy walked out of my life without a backwards glance.
I stood rooted to the spot watching her leave. Watching my reason for fucking living exit my life. And I vowed never to fall in fucking love again.
11
King
Eight Years Ago
Age 31
* * *
You couldn’t fucking trust people.
Unfortunately, that was a lesson I had to keep learning over and fucking over—from the day I was born to today. This time the lesson came from a man I’d trusted with my life, obliterating any desire I might have had to ever put my faith in anyone again.
I’d dedicated almost a decade to Jethro, believing him and blindly following his directions. After I’d ended my relationship with Ivy, my focus had been completely on him. I’d descended into the pits of hell for him, taking care of the filthy shit he didn’t want to.
I used to think Jethro was everything. He’d been Storm’s president for fifteen years and had taken me in when I’d shown up at the clubhouse with a friend who wanted to join the club. I’d come for a drink and left with a burning desire to be part of a brotherhood unlike any I’d known before. Jethro taught me everything he knew about life and the club. Or so I thought. Turned out he’d only shown me the side of himself he wanted to. He’d kept hidden the fact he stole from the club and harassed members behind closed doors to get them to do shit he wanted. Shit that benefitted him, not the club.
Jethro sneered at me. “Giving up the presidency to you wasn’t enough, huh, King? Now you’re gonna kill me?”
I clenched my jaw. “You gave up the presidency because you’re a lying, thieving motherfucker and wanted to keep the money you’ve stolen from the club more than you wanted to remain president. If you ever thought I’d simply allow you to make me president in return for my silence forever, you were mistaken. That shit will come out in the open tonight. But this between us now, this is for what you did to me and Ivy.”
“What the fuck did I do to you and that bitch?”
I sucked in a deep breath and stopped myself from punching him. Why, I wasn’t fucking sure. I had no reason to contain my need for revenge anymore. Tonight I would finally do what I’d been planning for the last week. “You pushed me into leaving her.”
“Fuck, that was seven years ago. You’re still holding onto that shit? And besides, I didn’t push you into doing anything. That was all on you.”
Rage breathed down on me. It threatened to smother me with its need for retribution. My skin crawled with anger until I finally snapped and allowed my darkness out to play.
Taking the few steps between us, I grabbed Jethro’s shirt and yanked his body against mine. Our eyes met, and I showed him the thunder roaring in me. He may have thought he’d witnessed the depths of my crazy, but he hadn’t. I kept the extent of my madness carefully concealed. Jethro would wish he’d never met it. Would fucking wish he’d never crossed me.
“You manipulated me, Ivy, and half the fucking club so I’d think leaving her was for the best. I bought into what you were selling. And what the fuck for?” I gripped his shirt harder. “What the fuck did you get out of Ivy leaving?”
Distaste painted his face. “That bitch was your one weakness. I simply helped you see that and deal with it. She was fucking tenacious, though. I’ll give her that.”
His words shattered my focus. “What did you do to her?” I demanded on a harsh breath. I would kill him slower for this. I’d find a way to draw his blood so it hurt ten times more than I had planned.
He only hesitated for a moment. Jethro liked people to know the shit he’d done. “No matter what I did to her or what I had club members do to her, Ivy never fucking ran to you and dogged on anyone. That bitch told me that even though she hated me and half the club, nothing would force her to leave your side. She said you two had been through everything together and she’d be there until the day you died.” His lips flattened. “That was why you needed to get rid of her. She would have dragged you and the club down because you would never have been able to put the club first.”
I saw fucking red. Without another thought, I smashed my head against his nose. As he reeled back, I roared, “No one makes decisions for me!”
Before he had a moment to recover and get his mind back in the game, I punched his face. He continued stumbling backwards, towards the brick wall in the filthy alley where I’d met him, while I continued punching him.
I’d unleashed my demons, and they weren’t retreating anytime soon. They would see this through.
I lost myself to the violence. After being raised on a diet of brutality and cruelty, this savage fury was ingrained in me. It lived deep in my soul. In my fucking bones. I dedicated effort to keeping it locked up, but Jethro had hit the trigger, and I was helpless to stop it.
The one thing I knew without a doubt in life was that you should take the time to identify the monsters that walked among you and then do everything in your power not to wake them. If you did disturb them, that shit was on you.
By the time I was done with him, Jethro lay at my feet, a bloody mess of slashed skin, broken bones, and damage I hardly recognised as coming from my hands.
I took a few minutes to get my breathing under control and my thoughts back in focus. It’d take me hours to come down from this, but I needed to concentrate enough to call Hyde.
Hyde answered straight away. “You’re done?”
“Yeah, brother, I’m fucking done. Just need your help getting rid of this body.”
“Text me the address. I’ll be there.” He paused for a moment. “And King, you did the right thing. I’ve got your back on this.”
I’d told Hyde of my discoveries regarding Jethro, and he’d helped me investigate to confirm. He’d wanted to watch the motherfucker die, had wanted to help, but this was something I needed to do on my own. That he’d taken my back wouldn’t be forgotten anytime soon.
While I waited for him, I crouched down next to Jethro and allowed the memories of the shit we’d done together to come. I needed to do that. Needed to remember so I wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. Promises made flashed through my mind, and I noted them too.
I wouldn’t go down this path again.
I would never hand the gun to someone and load the bullets for them.
I’d rather aim that gun at myself and blow my own fucking brains out.
Betrayal was worse than death, and the only way to avoid it was to never trust anyone but yourself.
Part II
Present Time
12
King
* * *
I stood rooted to the spot star
ing at the woman who had haunted my dreams for over a decade. Hell, she’d haunted them even when we were together. Ivy wasn’t a woman you simply forgot, not even in your sleep while she lay next to you.
I’d never wanted to forget her.
Nor had I tried.
I’d always welcomed the raging torrent of memories, even on the days they almost strangled the breath from me. They served as a reminder never to trust people or love again. Those memories were a tangled vine of Ivy, Jethro, Bethany, and my mother. Love, hate, lies, betrayal and death, all wrapped together in my head. Although I’d fucked up and fallen in love again after Ivy, I’d tried like hell to never go down that path again. Nothing good came from it.
“Hello, King. It’s been a long time.”
I’d stopped counting the days years ago. The years, however, sat between us, a harsh reminder of the choices I’d made. Choices she knew nothing of.
She watched me closely. When I found no words, because she’d caught me completely fucking off guard, she spoke again. “Are you going to say anything?”
The room had swallowed me. Consumed every thought I had. Jen’s death—her baby’s death—vanished from my mind.
I took a step towards her. “You look well.”
Ivy would be thirty-eight soon. She looked all of thirty. The beauty she wore today was a far cry from the ravaged beauty she’d walked out of my life wearing. I’d never forgiven myself for breaking her.
“Looks can be deceiving.”
My mouth turned dry, and I had difficulty swallowing. “What’s going on, Ivy? Are you not well?” What the fuck did she mean by that? Was she not fucking well? My mind raced with the possibilities of what could be wrong. The thoughts flying at me, though, became one big fucking jumbled mess.
Nothing fucking made sense right now.
Why the fuck was she here?
