by Nina Levine
She ignored me for a few moments before finally turning to look up at me. “He never wanted children. Not like you did.”
I clenched my fists by my side. There was something in her tone, something that made me ask, “Why did you miscarry?”
A sob escaped her lips, and her hand flew to her mouth as tears slid down her cheeks. When she answered me, the words choked out of her. “He beat me until I passed out. When I woke up, I was bleeding.”
It took everything in me not to roar with anger. Not to drive my fists into the wall. Instead, I scooped her into my arms and made a promise I intended to keep. “He will pay for this, Ivy. If it’s the last fucking thing I ever do. He will fucking pay.”
Her eyes found mine and held them as she slid her arms around my neck. I struggled for breath while she did that. It was all too fucking much.
Her pain.
Her body in my arms.
Her fingers on my skin.
And when she whispered, “Thank you,” through her sobs, and nuzzled her face into my neck, I knew I’d do anything to put an end to her husband’s life. I’d fucking bleed if I had to.
24
King
* * *
“You look like shit.”
I looked up from the drink I was staring at to find Kree watching me with a look of concern. She’d broken the silence I’d managed to find in the clubhouse bar. “It’s 2:00 a.m., Kree. Why are you up?”
She slid onto the stool next to me and reached for my glass of whisky. After she took a long gulp, she said, “I can’t sleep here. I need my candles and crystals around me. I’m agitated without them.”
I moved around to the other side of the bar as I said, “I’ll send the boys out to get your shit tomorrow. You need your sleep.” Grabbing a glass, I poured another whisky and placed it in front of her. “Drink that.”
Her lips curled into a smile. “You don’t like sharing your drink, King?”
I ignored that and moved back around the bar to my stool. I wasn’t in the mood for fucking small talk.
We sat in silence for a good few minutes before she broke it again. “You wanna talk about it?”
I eyed her. “I thought you didn’t wanna know the shit in my head.”
“I don’t, but you’ve got a lot of stuff going on, and I figure you need to get that shit out. And I also figure you’re not the kind of man to talk about any of it.” She took a sip of her drink. “I’m not saying I want specifics, but you need to talk about it. You might just blow the place up if you don’t.”
I watched her for another moment before nodding. She made a good fucking point. Since I’d learnt of Ivy’s miscarriage yesterday, my mind felt like it had fractured. I’d moved through the motions of getting her looked after and then bringing her back here, but after that, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to see her. I’d spent the rest of yesterday and all of today out looking for Romano. The motherfucker still managed to elude us. Not even Brant had drawn him out. Nothing was fucking going in our favour, and fuck knew I needed to get some of that shit out of my head.
I emptied my glass and poured another one before turning to face her again. “I’ve fucked a lot of things up in my life, Kree.” I paused and exhaled a long breath. “I don’t wanna fuck this up, but shit’s heading south every hour.” I stopped talking and knocked back some whisky. I was wrong—I didn’t need to get into this shit with her. I didn’t need to get into it with anyone. I just fucking needed to stay focused on my goal and get it done. Talking about it didn’t help anyone.
“We’ve all fucked stuff up in our life. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”
The longstanding tension in my shoulders made itself known. I’d lived with it for so long I hardly felt it anymore, but every now and then the pressure became all I could feel.
I dropped my head for a moment and then glanced sideways at her. “You ever fucked anyone over? You know what guilt feels like? And I mean the kind that twists your gut so fucking much that some days you can’t fucking breathe.”
“I don’t know that kind of guilt, but I’ll tell you something—if you’re the kind of man who can admit his mistakes, you’re the kind of man who can be forgiven.”
“I’m not looking for forgiveness.”
“Well, maybe you should be.”
“Why?”
“If you don’t, this kind of stuff will eat you up and kill you.” She leaned closer. “And when I say you should look for forgiveness, I mostly mean from yourself. You need to show yourself the kind of love others would show you if you asked for it.”
“Fuck, Kree,” I muttered, taking a swig of my drink. “I’m not asking for love or fucking forgiveness. I own my shit. I did it, and I’ll fucking live with it.”
“Yeah well, you’re not living with it, King, if you’re sitting here in a bar asking me about guilt at 2:00 a.m. So have a think about that, okay?”
I was fucking done with this conversation. Moving off my stool, I said, “Let Kick know what shit you want from your house tomorrow. He’ll get it.”
She called after me as I left, “Think about it. I’m not always right, but I’m right about this.”
She wasn’t right, not if she thought I needed forgiveness. Men like me didn’t deserve that.
I made my way to the kitchen but got distracted by the door to Ivy’s room. The light coming from under the door shed a tiny sliver of light into the dark hallway, catching my attention.
Against my better judgement, I closed the distance to her room and entered it.
She was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, but turned her head to look at me. No smile, but the hard edge to her seemed to have disappeared. Now, she just looked broken.
My chest squeezed.
Fuck.
I sat on the bed and held her gaze. After a few moments, I asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Tired mostly.”
“Do you need anything?” Winter had been keeping an eye on her and had told me she still wasn’t eating much.
“No.”
The lifeless tone to her voice worried me. Ivy used to shut down on me when something devastated her, and this was the tone I knew well from those times. It was the sign she was tapping out, and I’d be fucked if I’d allow that.
My jaw clenched as I thought about all the shit her husband had put her through. “How many times did he do this to you?”
Her eyes closed and she rolled to her side and curled into a ball.
“Ivy,” I demanded, my voice harsher than I meant, “tell me. How many times?”
She shook her head. “Don’t, King. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“What? Three times? Four? Five?” My voice grew louder as my desperation to have this conversation intensified. I needed to fucking know. “How many fucking times?”
Her eyes snapped open and wild, angry energy blazed from her. “Why? There’s nothing you can do about it now, so there’s no fucking point going over it!”
“There is a fucking point because I’m going to make him pay. Tell me.”
She stared at me for a long beat, and I wondered if I was going to have to drag this information from her, but finally she said, “I’ve had six miscarriages. Four were because of him.”
I shot up off the bed and paced the tiny room. “Fucking hell! I will fucking wrap my hands around his throat and take his last fucking breath.”
Ivy sat up on the bed, resting against the wall. Her exhaustion clothed her, and I fucking hated him for that too. “Just let it go, King. I’m not going back to him. He can’t hurt me anymore.”
I stopped pacing and directed my gaze back at her. “You’ve got that fucking right—you’re never going back to him. And I won’t fucking rest until I make sure he can never touch you again.”
A long sigh fell from her lips. “Can you please pass my painkillers and the glass of water that are on the table?”
I did as she asked and then sat on the bed again, watching her closely
for a sign—any sign—that she was going to be okay. When she looked at me after taking her drugs and said, “Remember the miscarriage I had when we were together?” I knew that was my sign. Somehow, we’d moved past the standoff we were at.
I nodded. “Yes.” I’ll never fucking forget it.
Ivy had fallen pregnant a couple of months after the night I’d almost forced myself on her. It had been a rare night where we’d connected again and the sex had been good, like old times, rather than rushed and just a release for each of us. I’d held hope the pregnancy would bring us back together, but six weeks later, that hope had been killed and she’d pulled away from me again. It had been one of our darkest moments together.
A tear slid down her cheek. “I was a bitch to you after that.”
She had been, but so much other shit had already gone on between us, that by then, we were both at fault. “It’s in the past, Ivy. We both did some fucked-up shit.”
More tears fell and she wiped them away. “Yeah, but I shouldn’t have pushed you away and treated you so badly. I’m sorry for that.”
Regret sat heavy in my chest as I thought about that time in our lives. There’d been so much confusion and so many misunderstandings, and if I could take that shit back, I would. But I wouldn’t change the fact we weren’t in each other’s lives anymore, because that was the only thing that actually made sense. We would have destroyed each other if we hadn’t made that break.
I stood as I said, “Get some sleep.”
Leaving the room, I didn’t look back.
Never fucking look back was how I lived life, and now was not the time to change it.
25
King
* * *
“You’re going to be fine,” Lily said, trying to assure Skylar, who looked anything but convinced she was going to be fine.
I was taking her home today, and she’d just spent the last fucking ten minutes freaking out about how she was gonna cope without the support she’d had while in hospital. Lily had to be one of the most patient women I’d ever come across. The way she remained calm with my sister impressed the fuck out of me.
Panic crossed Skylar’s face. “I might not be! King still hasn’t been able to find a physio off your list who can fit me in. What am I gonna do without you, Lily?”
“Jesus,” I muttered, losing my patience, but Lily’s eyes cut to mine and she hit me with a look that told me to rein it in.
“I’m going to give you my phone number, okay?” Lily said to Skylar as she sat next to her on the bed and held out her hand for Skylar’s phone. “And if you need to chat or need me to talk you through anything at all, you call me.”
Skylar passed over her phone and fuck if Lily’s offer didn’t calm her down a little.
Lily keyed her number in, handed the phone back, stood and then said with a level of bossiness that Skylar responded to, “Right, up you get. I’ve got another patient I have to see, and your brother looks like he’s about to lose his shit if you guys don’t get moving soon.”
My brows arched as I met Lily’s gaze. Her serious expression disappeared and a ghost of a smile flickered across her face. It didn’t last long, and as soon as she turned back to Skylar, it was gone, but it sparked a smile of my own.
I watched as she helped Skylar up, all the while talking positive shit to her. It reminded me of how Margreet used to encourage us as kids and how she always had the ability to stay focused and calm, even when we gave her hell. Lily’s words blurred into the background as my gaze drifted down her body. Fuck, she owned some serious curves and a tight ass. The kind that usually gave me a hard-on. If I wasn’t knee-fucking-deep in club shit at the moment, I’d have paid more attention to those curves by now.
“King!” Skylar’s voice sliced through my thoughts, drawing my focus back to the situation at hand. “I’m ready to go.”
I nodded as I continued eyeing Lily. When I made it back up her body and found her watching me, she blinked and immediately dropped her gaze before turning to Skylar and mumbling a goodbye. A moment later, she exited the room, confusing the hell out of me as to what the fuck just happened.
“King, can you take this?” Skylar asked, passing me her iPad.
I packed it into her bag and gathered her shit while she sat in the wheelchair the wardie had waiting to take her downstairs. Ten minutes later, I had her settled in the car, ready to take back to the clubhouse when Hyde called.
“I’ve got some good news finally,” he said. “Ghost has someone organised to take care of Marx.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Let Tatum know. The less she feels the need to ring me, the better.”
“Will do.”
“Any news on Romano?”
“Nothing yet. I do have news on Ivy, though.”
I followed the wardie and Skylar to the lift. “What?”
“She’s looking for you.”
“And?”
“She’s harassing the fuck out of Winter about seeing you.”
“Tell her I’m busy, Hyde.” Seeing Ivy was the last thing on my agenda for today.
“You ever tried to tell Ivy something she doesn’t wanna hear? She’s fucking stubborn.”
“Yeah. I know.” Did I fucking know. “She can wait.”
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“You get Monroe out of town?”
“She left this morning. I hope to fucking hell we get this shit sorted soon because she’s headed down to Melbourne to see Charlie who’s staying with Tenille. Those women could kill each other if left together for long enough.”
I gripped my phone harder. “We need to make a new plan to get to Romano. I’m on my way back there now. Get Axe and Zane in on this too.”
As I ended the call, I eyed Lily ahead. “I’ll meet you downstairs, Skye,” I said, leaving her with the wardie while I cut a path to where Lily stood going over her files.
“King,” she said, glancing up from her work. Her eyes held uncertainty, wariness maybe, but they also held the kind of warmth I didn’t often come across in my world. And again, it reminded me of Margreet.
“Will you work with Skylar on her rehab?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t do private physio work. Have you got many left to call from that list I gave you?”
“I’ve called them all. None have any spare appointments.”
She frowned. “Oh. I thought Skylar said you still had some left to try.”
“You saw how anxious she is about this shit. I haven’t told her they’re all busy. I was hoping you might be able to squeeze her in.”
“No, sorry, like I said, I don’t do any work outside of the hospital.” She shifted her weight onto one leg, drawing my attention down those legs again. Fuck, I really needed to get laid. I needed to drive some of this fucking tension out of my body.
Forcing my gaze back up to her face, I said, “I’ll pay you whatever you want.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but quickly shut it again. Then she said, “I honestly don’t have time between my kids and work. Sorry. There are plenty of good physios out there. You’ll find someone.”
With that, she gave me one last smile and walked away, leaving me staring after her wondering why the fuck I was annoyed she’d said no. There had to be hundreds of physiotherapists in Sydney.
“Fuck,” I muttered to myself, stalking towards the lifts. I’d find someone else. Skylar didn’t need Lily.
“I’ve spent days looking into Ryland and can’t find any dirt on him,” Tatum said an hour later when she found me in the clubhouse bar. I hadn’t been in the clubhouse for longer than twenty minutes, and hadn’t had a moment of peace in that time.
“Keep digging. Everyone has dirt.”
“I’m telling you, King, he doesn’t.”
“Fuck, Tatum, he will. Just keep fucking looking.” It had just gone midday and the bullshit I’d already dealt with today left me little patience for any more. From issues with cleaning j
obs we had going on, to a drug shipment being delayed, to club members growing restless with the Romano situation not being handled yet, to Tatum being on my ass about this, I was ready to call it a fucking day and go in search of pussy to dull the roar in my head.
She hit me with the cool gaze she often reserved for me. “I should have known you’d fob me off. You’ve been doing it for days.” She turned to leave, throwing back, “I’ll get Billy to help me on this.”
I reached for her, wrapping my hand around her wrist and pulling her back to me. Every ounce of frustration and anger I felt over this fucking situation and her attitude spilled out as I growled, “You do that, and you won’t like my response. This shit stays club business. The minute you make it something other than that is the minute you’re out in the fucking cold.” My eyes bored into hers. “Understood?”
Her cool gaze quickly turned stormy. Yanking her arm from my grip, she continued to drive my blood pressure up, hostile as fucking ever. “No, not understood. You can take your threats and shove them up your ass, King. I’m not scared of you.”
“I’m not trying to scare you, Tatum. I’m just letting you know how shit will go down if you choose a path that’s not in the club’s interest.”
She glared at me for a moment longer before stalking out of the office.
Fucking hell. The last thing we needed was Billy getting involved in this. I had to keep this contained in order to keep the club safe. There was far too much shit buried that needed to be kept that way, and the more people involved, the more likely some of it wouldn’t stay buried.
I dialled the lawyer we’d hired to get Nitro out.
“King. What’s up?” I appreciated that he always got straight down to business.
“I need to see Nitro.”
“I can get you in tomorrow morning.”
“Book it.”
“Will do. I’ll send you the details.”
Hyde entered the office as I ended the call, his body as tense as I felt. “Ryland’s back.”
