He shrugs, peering up at his officers from beneath his brow. “Let me think on it.”
Not that there’s much to think about. They’re willing allies. We’ve already discussed aligning ourselves more closely with them, given how similar our values are. I don’t get why he holds back on the obvious answer. The Fallen Aces MC would be the closest club in membership numbers to the Devil’s Breed—we need that behind us if we find ourselves backed against the wall.
“I’ll reach out to our other chapters and get a feel for who’s willing to help first,” Chaos says, placing his palms on the table. “In the meantime, we dig around and find out what the fuck the Breed have been doing behind our back.” He clicks his fingers at me. “You know what? Maybe getting friendly with Kyra is good timing. You can ask her to keep her ear to the ground and tell us anything her old man might say about them.”
And there it is.The muddy water. “I guess.” Didn’t expect the shit to get stirred up so soon, is all.
Chaos continues his speech, oblivious to my lack of interest in the idea. “This is our town. Our land. Our home. We’ve kept people like the Breed out of our state this long. I’m not about to let some fucking devil’s dog go changing that.”
The room erupts with the booming rhythmic thud of fists atop the table. All but mine.
Temperance belongs to the Kings.
Everythingbelongs to the Kings.
TWELVE
KYRA
The left sideof the porch roof sags on rotten posts, and mould is evident on the inside of the dirty window to the right. I draw a deep breath and frown at the agent who stands before the cracked porch steps, handing out leaflets to shocked potential buyers as though they stand before the Taj Mahal.
Calvin Rivers. Mariana’s main competition. An arrogant, handsy piece of work rumored to lower the purchase price in exchange for ‘benefits’.
“Fuck this,” I mutter.
“Pardon?” Mom glances away from her discreet yet dubious study of the property.
“Nothing.” The other two houses were lackluster as well, though I could confidently wager they would pass safety inspection, unlike this monstrosity before us. “Should we skip it?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She thinks I don’t notice the way she constantly shifts her weight between her feet—a sure sign Mom’s sciatica hurts. “It all depends on how inspired you feel to…” She grimaces, and I don’t think it’s from her pain. “Make it more yours.”
“I can tell you what it doesn’t inspire, and that’s taking a step inside.”
Calvin’s gaze lifts to where we stand at the edge of the pavement, a cheesy as fuck smile stretching his mouth.
“Shit.” I turn side-on to the man to face Mom. “He’s seen us.”
“Shauna!” He exclaims, opening his arms wide to greet Mom. “I didn’t know you were looking for an investment.”
Mom dons her practiced public service smile, hands clasped low before her. “Oh, I’m not. Our daughter, Kyra, is hunting for her first home in Temperance.”
He feigns shock. “Why didn’t you call me?”
I want to scratch the look off his face. “Didn’t feel the need to.”
His cheery mask doesn’t slip, yet I catch the flash of anger behind his eyes. “Well, since you’re here, you may as well come on in. I’ll show you around myself.”
A middle-aged couple scurry down the steps behind him, darting furtive glances his way as they book it for their car while Mom and I have him distracted.
“To be honest, I can already tell it’s not for me.”
His hungry gaze sweeps down me. “Let’s be honest, darling. I don’t think you really know what you want, do you? Can’t pass judgment before you give it a try.”
I get the impression the creep talks about something other than the house.
“Five minutes, Kyra, and then you can take me to lunch.” Mom shifts her weight again.
To be fair, there’s likely to be at least one sturdy enough chair inside for her to take the weight of her feet. I guess I can put up with this creep for her sake. “Fine.”
