Prince nodded. And I was surprised to feel a little bubble of rage under my skin. I’d seen and done a lot of fucked-up shit for the club but hurting a kid—that was where I drew a moral line. And seeing Prince in such a way had me in knots, and the fact he was still willing to go back home later to stay with his father in his Bellagio penthouse still made me even angrier. King may be a good MC boss, but he was a shit father.
It’s better to have a shit dad than no dad at all,I surmised, snapping back to the present moment. I could understand where Prince was coming from a bit. The two had a fucked-up relationship, to say the least, but it was a relationship. And I knew it was a lot to ask, and I’m not sure I would be so chipper about plotting my dad’s death. He continued on, and a little spark of hope lit in my chest.
“I can play dumb,” he said nonchalantly. “It's up to you, whatever happens. If you want to get the Black Reapers involved, that's your business. But don't expect me to back you up here, Crush.”
I nodded my appreciation, “I understand. But you should keep as stupid as you can and stay the hell away.”
He nodded, but it was not as encouraging as I wanted it to be. Prince stood up, and I watched him walk out the door. I heard his bike rev up, waiting for him to be long gone before I moved. Something in me was still paranoid that there were eyes out there. After the roar of the bike faded, I stood up fully, and I looked at the kitchen of the condo.
I aimlessly wandered from room to room, enjoying the freedom of being off the map. There was a small bathroom in the hallway, and the living room was spacious. A small dining area was off to the side, with a giant glass door that stretched out into a manicured lawn.Thank god for awesome landlords keeping lawn maintenance in the lease, I thought.
I thought about a dog, and whether or not it would like playing around outside. Or if Brianna even liked dogs in the first place. I moved away from the sliding glass door, going into the small spare bedroom that was filled with a couple of prepacked boxes and papers in case I ever needed to make a quick escape. The problem was that I had nowhere to go.
I moved to the master suite down the hall. I couldn’t help but imagine carrying Brianna over the threshold of the door and wondered if that was even possible in the first place. Denying the inevitable was quickly becoming harder and harder to do. The hot doctor wasmy woman, and damn did it feel good. I couldn’t wait to claim her as mine.
The large California King bed took up most of the space, and the closet doors were closed. There were two closets, and it was obvious that the room was designed for a couple to live in it. The en-suite bathroom had a double vanity and large shower. Not to mention, the cabinet space was enough to hold a small store.
I thought about Brianna before I could stop myself. The idea that she would fill this room, make itours. That the spare bedroom could be converted to a welcoming nursery. The life that we could have. What Ash and Callie had…I was slowly beginning to understand it.I spend one week with her and I’m already planning family and domestic shit.Man, I am whipped.
I smiled, just happy to have Brianna in my life at all, and the plans we could have together.It was possible with King dead, and maybe one day I wouldn’t have to commit major crimes just to rent a fucking house. Brianna and I could live on our own accord, on our terms, and live our own lives.
My phone rang, snapping me out of my reverie. It was still in the kitchen. I walked out, finishing the glass of alcohol as I approached the island counter. I looked at the screen, and my heart gave a little involuntary leap.
Brianna.
Brianna
“Hey,” the line connected on the third ring, and hearing Crush’s voice soothed my nerves. I was high-strung, to say the least, and even just the sound of him had me relaxed. “How's it going, sweetheart?”
I couldn't help but smile at his pet name for me. “Good. It has been hellishly busy at the hospital. Been a little stressed is all.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked suggestively. “Do you want me to come take care of you? You know I'm good at working out your knots.”
His words turned me on, and I couldn't help but revel in the sensation. After my conversation with King, I had needed some way to relax. And I found that it was almost impossible for me to relax without Crush. He just managed to put me at ease, and I could really use that right about now.
“Do you want me to come over?” he asked as if reading my mind. I nodded and then realized he couldn't see my head. I told him yes, and I could hear his smile over the line. “All right, I'll be there in half an hour, sweetheart.”
“Can’t wait to see you,” I replied.
My heart was racing as he hung up the call, and I threw the phone on my living room table. I sunk back into the couch, utterly defeated, and there was a low chuckle from across the room. King was standing in my living room, nothing but the small little coffee table between us, his large frame taking up a lot of space. I looked up and nodded. My hands shook, and the tears started to fall down my face in silence.
I knew King himself was unarmed, but he had his two trusty bodyguards standing at the door. My only chance to maybe make it out was to make a run for the balcony and hope I could survive the fall. I knew I couldn’t—not to mention, it wasn’t going to help Crush any if I was dead. But more importantly, I had no way to warn Crush. Not unless he came to the back door that my balcony faced. I prayed that he would, but the chances were slim.
King looked at me a wicked smirk. “Did he buy it?”
“He said he’ll be here in about a half an hour.”
King laughed that empty chuckle that always gave away his arrogance. As much as I knew, King wasn't one for making direct attacks. Even though he had the arms and the men to do it. But to him, it wasn't about just killing people and burning buildings. That wasn’t enough for King. He wanted to outmaneuver his enemy. He always wanted to be the man that had all the cards, and he just waited for you to play out your hand. He loved besting someone at their own game.
But I never expected it would be me that was bested in a game I didn't even want to play in the first place. I sat there, trying to think of a way out. But it was hopeless. I could only look at King with as much rage and agony as I felt and imagine all the ways that he would die. It was the only thing I could do to distract myself from the sound of my breaking heart.
I heard Crush’s bike as it came up to the building. He cut the engine, and I saw him through the balcony window.There is still a chance, I thought.I could still alert him now. Before anybody could move, I bolted to the sliding glass door and threw it open. I ran out to the balcony, seeing Crush right by the door, still on his bike. I screamed at Crush, and his eyes darted up to me.
King had moved fast, grabbing me around the arms from behind. I tried to wrench out of his grasp, but it was no use. I took a deep breath to scream, but King anticipated that move. His slimy, cold, bony hand came around my mouth. Crush watched in fury and made a move to grab his gun. I kept fighting King with every muscle in my body, and I bit down on his hand hard. That only granted me a second, but it was enough.
“Crush, run!” I yelled.
That earned me a slap across the face from King, and Crush looked around uneasy. King’s hand resumed its position back over my mouth. This time, he squeezed my face hard so that I couldn’t open my mouth at all. Tears fell down my face, the air raw in my lungs. But I had to keep fighting.
