Zero Regret: Z and Lilly, Part Two (Lost Kings MC Book 13)

by Autumn Jones Lake

  Slowly, I pull my knife out of the sheath resting against my thigh. It’s a different knife than I carry every day. This one’s for special occasions.

  Shadow’s eyes widen as I use the heavy, curved blade to slice off his VP patch. Overkill, but it gets the job done.

  “Burn it,” I order, handing it off to Rooster.

  Now that his patch has been taken, Steer throws Shadow back in his seat.

  I circle the room once, considering how this should go down.

  “While we were at the table, some disturbing information was brought up.”

  Shadow doesn’t seem to care. He sits back. “If you’re gonna kick me out, just do it.”

  “You think we woulda brought you down here if you were only getting kicked out?” Steer rumbles.

  The gravity of the situation seems to sink in for Shadow. He squirms in his chair.

  “What’s wrong, Shadow?” I ask. “Were you thinking, even if you got kicked out of LOKI, you’d run to the Vipers and they’d patch-in your disloyal ass?”

  He cocks his head and glares at me but doesn’t open his mouth.

  “Or were you thinking you’d help the Vipers infiltrate our club and you’d patch them over to us?”

  His mouth twitches. Jesus Christ, was that really what he wanted to do?

  Steer must have the same reaction. “How many of us were you planning to kill to make that happen?” he rasps out.

  “I didn’t need to kill anyone,” Shadow says. “Sway just needed to stop being a pussy.”

  Sway’s many things, but he’s not a coward.

  “It wasn’t just Sway,” Rooster says. “None of us wanted to go after the Vipers. We all voted on it.”

  “Because you’re all scared of National coming down on us.”

  “You thought patching over some Vipers would get you out from underneath National?” Can he really be that stupid? Priest would’ve come down even harder on them. “If the Vipers took over this charter—which never would’ve happened, by the way—Priest would’ve sent in every damn charter he could. All you would’ve done is spark off a war.”

  “You’re weak,” he spits out. “Pushing DeLova away. Been neglecting the Demons. How long you think that goes on before they take us over? Vipers could handle those two threats.”

  “Neither of them are a threat. Our relationship with Stump’s club is solid. Always has been.”

  Shit, we partied with them right before National. Rode with them for a while too. We’ve done business since then.

  Shadow’s full of shit.

  Even if the Demons had an issue with downstate, they’ve been close to upstate for years. They wouldn’t go after one of our other charters without serious cause.

  It doesn’t matter. “We’re getting sidetracked. So, you admit you were working with the Vipers MC? A known enemy of this club.”

  “I’m not admitting anything.” He sits back, smug as a child who stuck out his tongue.

  “Who shot Sway?” Steer asks.

  Shadow’s calculating stare slides between Steer and me. Finally, he shrugs. “Don’t know. I was inside.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Rooster pipes up. “I got records showing you renting a black caddy with the same last three digits of the one that tore ass out of here after Sway was shot. Not to mention a few other details.”

  Shadow’s head snaps up. “What records?”

  Jigsaw steps forward. He has his own knife out and slaps his open palm. “Myra gave you up.”

  Shadow’s eyes widen for the briefest second, then he snorts and looks down. “Like fuck she did.”

  “I had to give her some encouragement.” Jigsaw closes the distance between them and gently digs the tip of his Bowie knife into Shadow’s chin, forcing his head up. “Then she had all sorts of stuff to say.”

  “You’re down here stripping my patch because I felt up your old lady’s tits?” Shadow yells at me. “But you gave him permission to carve up my wife?”

  “No one even knew you had a wife,” Steer reminds him.

  “Some civilian piece on the outside isn’t my concern,” Jigsaw says.

  I glance over at Jigsaw, not happy about how he may have gotten his information. But I’ll have to address it later.

  Jigsaw pulls out his phone and hands it to me. A beautiful but terrified brunette stares back. Except for being duct-taped to a chair, she seems unharmed.

  Someone off-camera, Jigsaw, I assume asks about the night of the shooting.

  “I don’t know,” she cries.

  “Think hard. ”

  “You don’t understand what he’ll do to me.”

  “Trust me, sugar. It won’t be an issue.”

  She’s silent. Probably weighing her options. Rat out her husband or get carved up by Jigsaw? If Shadow treats her with the same respect he treats other women, I think she’ll choose the first option.

  “I didn’t do anything,” she whispers. “And I didn’t know what he had planned.”

  “What didn’t you know?” Jigsaw snaps. “Stop fucking around.”

  “He wanted me to,” she stops and licks her lips, “drive this car he rented to the clubhouse. He was going to give me a signal to peel out.” She stares at the camera. “It’s best if I don’t ask Jimmy questions.”

  "Get to the night in question,” Jigsaw prompts.

  “I pulled into the parking lot where he told me to so I’d avoid the cameras. He was outside arguing with the tall, older guy.”

  Jigsaw must flash a picture to her off-camera. “That him?”

  She nods.

  “Go on.”

  “The other guy turned to go inside and Jimmy…”

  She sobs and hiccups at the same time.

  In a gentler tone, Jigsaw asks, “What did Shadow do?”

  “He…he…pulled a gun and shot the older man…in the back of the head.” She bursts into tears. “I didn’t need a signal. I slammed it in drive and floored it out of there.”

  “Fucking bitch,” Shadow mumbles.

  “Actually, she was quite sweet.” Jigsaw grins. “Once we got to know each other.”

  “Motherfucker!” Shadow roars and launches himself at Jigsaw, hitting him head-on in the gut.

  “Jesus Christ, sit him down,” I say to Steer.

  Jigsaw’s laughing when Shadow’s thrown back into his chair. I glare at him and he settles down.

  Steer uses his sledgehammer-sized fists to knock Shadow around a few times. “You shot our president?” he asks between blows.

  “Fuck you.” He laughs in Steer’s face. “You should’ve helped me take Sway out after that shit with Bull, but you’re too loyal to him.”

  Obviously, they have issues to work out.

  “Loyal to the club.” Steer punches Shadow in the face, snapping his head to the left. “Not Sway.”

  “Enough,” I order. “Did you shoot Sway?” I ask again.

  “He was kissing Priest’s ass. Closing off avenues of revenue that clubs have used for decades because he didn’t want to get on Priest’s bad side.”

  Hustler shakes his head. “None of us wanted in on the stuff you’re talking about. We’ve voted on it more than once.”

  Interesting that they’ve voted on whether or not to go against direct orders from National.

  “If Sway had been out, I would’ve convinced you my way was better,” Shadow finally says.

  “You assumed you’d move into his spot?” I ask.

  “I’m the VP! Of course I assumed that, asshole.”

  “Power isn’t given. It’s either taken or earned.” I drill him with a hard stare. “And you’re not strong enough to do either.”

  “Fuck you, Z.” Shadow spits. “I earned my place.”

  “Nothing is ever guaranteed,” Steers says.

  “No shit.” Shadow sneers. “Never expected Priest to come up here. Especially since the fucker didn’t even die.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head. “Christ, Shadow, you’r
e dumber than I thought. Priest already hinted at National that he wanted us to take over your charter. Then you fucked up by getting arrested down there. No way was he ever gonna let you be in charge of any charter. You’re lucky he didn’t strip your VP patch months ago.”

  Steer glances up at me and frowns. Guess it was news to him that we came close to taking over his club last year.

  “None of us wanted to take over downstate. We said we’d support in any way we could, but that’s it.”

  Thankfully, Steer seems satisfied with that answer. “I never would’ve wanted you as president,” Steer says to Shadow. “So, if I ran against you, were you gonna shoot me too?” He jerks his chin at Hustler. “Were you gonna take him out if he said no? Jiggy? Were you gonna shoot all your brothers in the back if you couldn’t get your way?”

  Shadow has no answer.

  I’m done playing with him.

  I glance around the room. “I promised the decision to put Shadow to ground was up to the whole club. And it has to be unanimous.”

  Actually, I’m not sure that’s true anymore. After what we’ve learned tonight, even if someone doesn’t vote yes, Shadow can’t be allowed to remain breathing. “Let’s vote,” Steer says. “Yes.”

  Every brother steps forward and gives their yes without hesitation. Even Smoke.

  I’ll give Shadow credit. He keeps his chin up and doesn’t beg or plead for his life.

  This was an insult, an injury, to all of us. To purge the betrayal of the whole club, I allow the brothers to put the boots to Shadow for a while.

  But I’m the one who finally slits his throat.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Lilly

  I FINALLY MANAGED to fall asleep. Several times through the night I wake up and realize Z’s still not home.

  The rumble of more than one bike briefly wakes me but I’m so out of it, I don’t fully awaken.

  A few minutes, or maybe even an hour later, something brushes over my ankle. Startled, I jerk my feet up. The covers slowly slide down my body and a firmer grip on my leg pulls me from sleep.

  “Z?”

  “It’s me.”

  Relief washes over me and I blink myself awake. “Are you okay?”

  “Shh, I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

  While he says go back to sleep, his rough hands skimming their way up my legs only awaken all my pent-up needs and fears.

  He skims his lips over my calf and behind my knee. Stops to kiss a spot on my thigh. Every kiss and touch reminds me how precious I am to Z.

  I turn over and sit up, almost bumping into him. The barest hint of sunrise bleeds into the room but it’s enough to see the look of surprise on Z’s face when I strip my tank top off and toss it on the floor.

  I run my gaze over his damp hair and skin. “Did you take a shower?”

  “Yeah, before I left the clubhouse and then again downstairs. You didn’t want me coming to bed covered with what went on tonight.”

  I turn that over in my head. “What happened?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He lifts his chin. “Keep going.”

  I wiggle out of my shorts and loop my arms around his neck, dragging him down to me. His forehead touches mine but he doesn’t kiss me. He stares at me for a few seconds. “Are you hurt?”

  “No.”

  “It won’t ever happen again.” The conviction to his words is clear.

  I can only imagine what Z had to do in order to make that promise. I doubt I’ll ever see Shadow again.

  “I trust you.”

  He closes his eyes for a second, then kisses my forehead, my eyelids, my cheeks, then lower.

  “Where are you going?”

  Stubble from his chin scratches over my hip, followed by another soft kiss. “I wanted to wake you up with my face in your pussy.”

  “I’m awake now.”

  “I still want to taste your pussy.” He tightens his hands around my hips. “I need to taste you, breathe you in, feel that you’re safe and mine.” The words tumble out of him in a tangle of emotion and dominance. “I hated being away from you for so long after what happened.”

  I whisper, “I was worried about you.”

  “Lilly, I will always punish anyone who hurts you.”

  I open my mouth to answer, but gasp instead. He drags his tongue up my needy center, stopping to flick my clit.

  “The only words I need to hear from you for the next few hours are ‘more’, ‘right there’, and ‘holy fuck, I’m coming again’.”

  I shiver with desire, then chuckle. “What about, ‘fuck me harder with your giant cock’?”

  “That works too.”

  He lowers his head and spreads me wide, then presses soft kisses everywhere, slowly working his way up to longer, slow, sensual kisses. The tip of his finger circles my clit, lighting up every nerve ending in my body. I’m writhing and shoving myself against his face when he wraps his lips around my clit and flicks his tongue.

  “Z, that’s so good.” My moans fill the room and he encourages me to make more noise.

  After long moments of kissing and licking, he sits up and I finally spy the huge bandage covering his left thigh.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing some painkillers won’t take care of later.” He stretches out next to me and pats his chest. “Come sit on my face.”

  “What?”

  He turns and gives me a cocky smile. “Did you come yet?”

  I shake my head. “But—”

  “Then I’m not finished. My leg is on fire, though. So, come sit on my face.”

  “Z.”

  “Unless you’re about to say one of the approved phrases for the night, get your ass up. I’m not fucking around, woman.”

  Good god, will I ever get over that bossy attitude of his turning me on so much? I hope not.

  I scramble onto my knees and kneel beside him. My gaze strays to his injury again. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.” He cups my hip with one hand and urges me closer. He slides down and I wriggle my way up until he has me exactly where he wants.

  The second his tongue makes contact with my flesh again, my legs shake.

  “Put your hands against the wall.” His warm breath ghosts over my damp thighs. “Can’t have you losing your balance.”

  “Yeah, I’ll smother you.”

  He slaps my ass, driving me forward where his tongue waits for another long, slow lick. Maddeningly slow. How does he have this much patience and self-control?

  I tilt my head back, arching and reaching until I wrap my hand around his cock.

  He groans and clutches my hip tighter. “Not yet, pretty girl,” he mumbles against me.

  I squeeze him a little tighter and slide my hand up and down until he groans again.

  “Concentrate, Lilly. You can have my cock after you come.”

  “That seems unfair.”

  Careful not to add kicked in the face to his injuries for the night, I turn over. He wraps his hands around my waist and drags me where he wants, keeping a tight hold of me. Now I have enough room to play.

  Except the second I get my fingers around the smooth steel of his cock, he wraps his lips around my clit and sucks.

  “Oh shit!”

  “Mmmhmm,” he encourages. The sound vibrates against my center.

  Fully interested in repaying the favor, I open my mouth and relax my jaw, slowly taking him. He groans and his hips jerk as I close my mouth around him. I pull back, careful not to choke.

  His hands skate over my ass, up my back, and grab a handful of my hair, giving it a gentle tug. His other arm stays clamped over my hips, keeping me in place.

  All thoughts vanish as we race to see who can pleasure the other one more.

  “Ah, fuck, woman.” He rips his mouth away. “Get on my dick.”

  Panting and grinning, I sit up and slide my hand up and down his slick shaft a few times. “Make up your mind. Get on my face. Get on my dick. Which is it?”r />
  His hands clamp down on my hips, holding me in place. “Ride my dick,” he grits out. “Now.”

  Careful not to disturb his injury, I brace myself with my hands on his shins, line myself up and sink down. “Oh,” I gasp.

  He slaps his hand against my ass twice. “God damn your ass is fucking beautiful. Harder.”

  I place my hands on the mattress, leaning forward to give him a really good show and ease myself up and down.

  “Fuck.” His voice strains. “That’s good.”

  Blood thunders through my ears. My nerve endings go wild. “Z, I’m—”

  “I feel you. Keep coming.” He slaps my ass again, setting me off. “Ride me.”

  The orgasm barrels down on me and I almost collapse.

  I throw my head back and he grabs my hair, gently tugging.

  “Turn. Want to see you,” he rasps. He groans when I pull myself off and again when I stand over him.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” I’m staring down at his injury, wondering how I’m going to make this work.

  “The only pain I’m feeling is in my balls. Get down here.” He grabs at my hand and tugs.

  As carefully as possible, I slide down. He grabs my hips and pulls me forward. “There you go. Perfect. Work that pussy.”

  “I’m doing all the work.”

  “I know. It’s fucking awesome.” He places his hand at the back of my head and pulls me down for a kiss.

  His other hand presses down on my ass while he thrusts up into me. Being so tightly held, so close to him, triggers another orgasm and I scream against his mouth.

  “Fuck,” he groans. His hand fists in my hair. Good god, how many hands does he have? His arms clamp down around me while his hand pulls my hair, keeping me strung tight while he comes with a roar.

  “Oh my god,” I keep whispering over and over.

  “Nope, just me.” He grins and bucks his hips, sending me tumbling to the side.

  After reconnecting, reuniting, reassuring each other that we’re okay and well, fucking ourselves limp, Z pulls me close. Warm skin on warm skin. He runs his fingers through my hair and kisses my cheek.

  “What happened?” I whisper.

  “Let’s just say, he’s somewhere he’s never going to bother you or any other woman again.”

  He doesn’t need to tell me more than that. I understand exactly what he means. “Good.”